KidSnatched
by Silver Orbed Lioness
Summary: After Obliviating her parents, Hermione gets kidnapped by Scabior for one disgraced Professor Snape - except, not everything is black and white as Hermione understands. Hermione begins to capture quite enough attention - even the Dark Lord seems to find her alluring, what happens when she and Voldemort meet and who'll help Harry in Hermione's stead on the horcrux hunt?
1. Snatched

**AN: _ALL RIGHTS GO TO JK ROWLING THE REAL MINISTER OF MAGIC. We are just her subjects she graciously allows to play with her prized possessions._**

 **Cast of Pairings _: Severus/Hermione; Lucius/Hermione; Voldemort/Hermione; Harry/Ginny; Ron/Luna; Remus/Tonks - with smatterings of Rodolphus Lestrange/Hermione; Rabastan Lestrange/Hermione; Andromeda Tonks/Kingsley Shacklebolt_**

 **Canon Pairings:** _**Lucius/Narcissa; Arthur/Molly; Harry/Ginny; Remus/Tonks; Rodolphus Lestrange/Bellatrix; Neville Longbottom/Hannah Abbott**_

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 _Hermione gets a lot of debating action in this story, proving how clever she really is. I have gone through some routes and pairings obvious to me and I do not have her mouthing off like I read in some fanfics. In POA, IT IS HERMIONE who really gives the chance for Sirius to prove he did not kill James and Lily all those years ago, I rather think she would extend the same courtesy to Severus if given the chance._

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 **KidSnatched**

 **SNATCHED**

Sigh. Hermione Jean Granger, you really are going to do this aren't you? She knew she was. What other options were there? They stay here they could give away her position out of fear. Or they could not give in and be tortured to death. Learning about the Unforgivables had earmarked a healthy fear for the enemy. She stood at the door of the sitting room – her parents watching some old sit com on GOLD and laughing their heads off. Creeping up behind them, able to make no sound what so ever, lest her parents turn around and enquire as to why their beloved daughter is pointing her wand at them, Hermione muttered the cantrip. Never had she felt as despicable as the moment she Obliviated her out of their existence.

How could she call herself a Gryffindor for doing something that seemed so cold hearted? Her tortured mind wondered if a Slytherin would know better. The world was not as black and white to her as it was to her two friends. She was sure not all the evils in the Magical community could be brought to Slytherin's door. She had read of nasty Ravenclaws. Even sly Hufflepuffs. Not forgetting Gryffindor's black sheep Pettigrew.

She waited until her parents were out of the house before she ran back upstairs to cry on her bed – they may be alive but she felt as if she had murdered them. Callously destroyed everything they had ever worked for. Her sacrifice for Harry. For herself. When she felt she had cried enough she started shrinking boxes and sent them to the Burrow where she was looking forward to one of Mrs Weasley's bear hugs and cinnamon rolls. Wiping the tears from her face as she worked. Then she telephoned the estate agent's and said it was ready to be sold onto a new family. It cost a lot from her savings to do this task. Not to mention her heart.

Then she needed one last time to walk around her street. Last little stroll where she could relive childhood memories. Of the park she played, picnicked, and hid from bullies. Squeezing out some slow, silent, tears as she saw ghosts of her pre-Hogwart's existence in front of her. Whatever happened to that mostly carefree little girl? Oh, that's right, she became friends with a walking target for one of the most cruellest monsters ever to slither his way into existence.

When she felt she had tortured herself long enough, Hermione shivered out the dregs of her sob and made her way to the corner shop owned by Gupta and Anita Singh. Buying plenty of muggle sweets as presents for Harry as part of his birthday present and something uniquely muggle for Arthur. Mostly she went to see the most adorable baby on this planet. Whilst her father rang through her basket Hermione tightly held the new little girl. Dark large eyes smiling so sweetly as she begged her favourite babysitter to play with her. Coffee coloured skin glowed in innocent joy. Short curly black hair clipped back in girly pink glittery hair slides highlighted the kid's apple cheeked smirk. Hermione's heart melted with motherly desire as she sniffed the babies head. Uterus on full alert she bounced the girl on her hip.

"Want to fly?" Hermione whispered. Tempting it was to levitate the child as a treat but Hermione felt Mina's parents might see that as irresponsible. So she did it the way her father used to by holding the girl up high over her head, causing a rushed descent to her waist before making the girl soar high again causing the girl to ring out with childish giggles. "See," Hermione whispered. "You're a clever girl aren't you?"

" _Too_ clever," Gupta, the proud father beamed beatifically. "We love our little Mina."

"She is _incredibly_ beautiful," Hermione breathed kissing the girl on the forehead and held her close again sniffing in the little baby aroma from her head. "Goodbye Mina," she sighed.

"BU!" Mina squealed. Trying to copy Hermione. "BU! BU! BU!"

Chuckling, Hermione set the girl down next to her father's till: "I will miss you, Mina Singh, you're gorgeous."

"BU!" Mina waved rather floppily.

"That's right," Hermione waved with her own hand. "Bu, bu, bye!" with one last peck Hermione hugged Gupta and kissed him on the cheek. "Look after her properly."

"I could not do anything else for my little angel."

"Good," she said. Knowing the truth about the Singh's beautiful girl. A small part of her hoped she had babysat a future Gryffindor.

She walked out with her purchases. Satisfied she had seen what she wanted to for one last time, she headed off back home, to finish off sending her things to the Burrow in time for Bill and Fleur's wedding. Of course, she had to safely fetch Harry first. Though how that would pan out was anyone's guess. Her Arithmantic equations held out for many variables. Some loss of limbs or life was shown through the equations. Still, there was no other way to get him free from Privet Drive forever.

"Priorities, Hermione," she whispered as she fumbled about for her keys. Dropping them on the floor due to some natural clumsiness she only had when in a Muggle neighbourhood. As a Witch she was wonderful, as a Muggle she may as well be Neville. Rolling her eyes she bent down to pick them up but they seemed to elude her as she kicked them right under the doorstep. "Idiot," she berated herself. Putting down her purchases by her feet, Hermione lowered herself on her knees and slid her hand between the small gap of the step and the tiled entry way scagging a nail in the process. "Ow," she winced. "Absolute dunderhead."

"You could try this, luv," said a strange cocky voice from behind her. She saw her door open wide – which meant the person was a Wizard. Suddenly, she felt a strong arm wrap around her waist helping her up. "Nice perfume, sweetheart," he growled in her ear. Hermione's throat went dry. "Feel nice in my arms, you do."

Gazing ahead Hermione tried not to think whom it was that had her in his arms. Of the very few Death Eater's she has met none of them sounded like this. Keep calm, Hermione. This git might not even be a threat.

"What do you want?" she whispered.

"Someone wants to see you, dear, now I know what you smells like I shoulda upped me price."

Upped his... a Bounty Hunter... no, Snatcher! Right, come on, square your shoulders. Do not give this brute the satisfaction of your fear.

"It is of no business of yours what I smell like."

"Ooo quite the snark aren't ya."

"One of my teachers excelled in it!" she retorted proudly.

"Ah, think I know who ya mean, luv," the man held her closer to his body. Invading Hermione's senses and personal space in a way she was at once uncomfortable with yet, disgustingly enjoyed, at the same time. "Sevvie." Sev... Snape. No one had the right to give him that moniker: Despite how Harry recalled events of that horrible night, Hermione had been hearing it differently, not quite prepared to believe the man to be a cold hearted murderer. The rage Snape directed at Harry told her something else. What really made Hermione rethink was that Snape _did not gloat_ over Dumbledore's demise. Rather, how Hermione saw it, he seemed more _distraught_ than anything. Yet, telling Harry any of this was a waste of time. Still, she gathered, there would come a time either or neither of us is proved right.

The man in whose embrace she was in nipped her neck to bring the attention back to him. Hermione wished she could use magic right now but the muggle heavy neighbourhood prevented her from playing to her strengths. "Yeah, he can be a bit of a party pooper, can't he, glad he weren't my teacher – wouldna got all that practice in kissing for when I met the right Witch," his tongue flicked onto her cheek. "I reckon you're her," he grinned against the nape of her neck.

"Hermione," an elderly voice said from the street. "Are you all right, dear, do you want me to call the police?"

"You tell this sweet old Muggle that you're fine, I'm your boyfriend," Hermione felt like biting his thumb that was currently tracing over her lips, "that way no one has to get hurt, do they?"

Gritting her teeth, he spun her around so Hermione could come face-to-face with Mrs Kirkbride. Sweet, courageous, old Mrs Kirkbride who had survived two Muggle World Wars but seemed extra feisty because of them.

"Everything is fine," Hermione forced a smile. "This is my boyfriend."

"Ah, he seems to be extremely affectionate."

"Can't keep me 'ands off her, luvvie," Hermione did not even know what this person looked like. He must be young but there was no denying he was also superbly powerful and one not to easily cross.

"Cannot say I blame you, Hermione would be quite the catch for any young man."

"Yeah, you got that right," the man said jovially. "So, not meanin' to be rude but my girlfriend and I have things to do," Hermione was sure she sensed a cheeky wink. Mrs Kirkbride actually winked and giggled back.

"Oh I won't keep you waiting then. Three marriages and six children under my garters. Useless to keep a man waiting, Hermione. Bye darling!"

"Goodbye," Hermione watched as the spritely OAP walked down the street to also offer her patronage at the corner shop.

"See, that weren't unpleasant now, was it?" the man whispered. The man manoeuvred her into the hallway, rather thoughtfully carrying her carrier bag full of sweets. "So, luv, shall we do what that little old gel thinks we are up to?"

"Certainly not!" Hermione exclaimed flushing with indignation.

"I promise I won't 'urt ya!"

"Unfortunately," Hermione said sweetly dangerous, "I cannot claim the same."

Instead of a vicious snarl or a slap in the face – all the man did was laugh. Hermione wished he would not. It was a deep, rumbling, playful laugh. It was now when she was forced around in a swift, smooth twirl to face her attacker. Unlike a ragged, wreck of a man with a scar decorated visage that she expected, Hermione was startled to find the man was young. Perhaps slightly younger than Snape and Remus. Older than Bill Weasley though. Twinkling bright blue eyes that could turn indigo when – she shuddered – nope. Long dark brown hair rakishly set in a pony tail. The red streak captivated Hermione's attention and she found herself reaching out to touch it. A movement not unnoticed by the stranger in her home. Helga's hex, eyeliner. The man wore sexy black eye make up and it still made him excitingly scary and definitely no less of a man. In the Muggle world he'd be mistaken for a Rock Star, David Essex was bought to Hermione's mind. Made her knees crumble just thinking about this guy in a band – he was definitely front man material.

"See," he winked and smirked. Dimples. Dear Merlin, her knees buckled completely. "I guess you won't be entirely against me advances would you, beautiful?"

No one, even Viktor, had not actually called her that with the gleam in the pupils this man did. Was it possible to lust after someone who actually meant you harm? Was it the danger of the situation that got Hermione's heart pumping? The fact he was completely unknown and yet had not let go off her? Vulnerable? No. Then why did she suddenly want to wrap her legs around him?

"I don't know what you mean."

"Course," the man winked again. "I mean," he tilted her chin up and moved her face side to side, examining her closely. "Though why would any Wizard in their right mind not want to kiss those lips?"

"Maybe you could do a survey!" she arched an eyebrow.

Another giggle from this man still pressed against her body. "I've been sent to ya," he sighed as if he hated what he had to do. "I have to take ya somewhere – but as I said," he leaned over and his hot breath fell deliciously down her skin causing her soft flesh to pimple. "I wish I upped me price coz now, ya see," he pressed his lips just under her jaw. A slight gasp left Hermione's throat. "I might like ya," he shuffled further forward causing her to stumble back against the wall knocking a small magazine table over as she felt the man's hands firmly grasp her hip. "I don't normally takes to a girl this quick, love," he murmured. "There's just a little feeling with ya, I can't help but think you an I would be good for each other," his head cocked down as he sucked her lobe. Legs wilted beneath her. "Hmm, taste jus' as good as you smell, beautiful."

How could she be doing this? Push him off! Ask him what he wants! Get rid of him. You are not this easily seduced, Hermione Granger. Instead what she actually said was: "Thank you," in ragged breath.

"Thinkin you like what I'm doin, luvvie," he whispered as he angled his head so he could kiss and suck her other ear. Rough hands rubbed up her waist. Long fingers spread over her stomach where she felt something like fire ignite within her. "Mmm, cherry?" she nodded. Weakened arms wrapped around the man's strong shoulders. "Oh, vanilla," he growled as he lifted her up so his lips were now kissing her hardening nipples through her tank top. "You're a real dessert, aren't ya, beautiful."

"Yes," she hissed her back arched as he lifted one leg over his waist.

Why can't I stop it? Am I perverted or strange? What will Ron or Harry say? She did not even know if she was with an enemy or a friend. Was that the turn on – the uncertainty? The excitement? The way his eyes twinkled? He ground against her hips where she felt something hard rub against her.

"Mmmhppph." she mumbled as the man slammed her against the wall again as he slipped his clothed body up and down hers.

"Likes it a bit rough, does ya, luv?" he growled as he pulled her head back exposing her throat to his hot heavy mouth and tongue. "I can do that an more for you, beautiful." Suddenly he felt something heat up in his pocket. "Another time, dear," he said settling her down. "Shame but it seems my client won't be kept waitin'."

Now he was no longer touching her Hermione's head seemed to stumble out of her lust induced fog. Finally, understanding the danger she was in, Hermione kicked him in his still swollen crotch and tried to escape through the back door. "Oh no you don't, petal!" the man grabbed her by the waist again and pulled her flush against his body. "Don't think I won't finish what we started." She struggled against his grip but he was stronger, bigger and far more violent, in the way he held her. "As I said, though, I want to up my price – when I get there, I'm going to forego the gold and ask for you instead, Beautiful."

Then she felt her stomach twist as she was forcefully yanked through the now familiar tug of Side-Along apparition. Harshly they landed in their destination of choice. Hermione on her hands and knees. He dropped unceremoniously on his butt. Bright bursts of white light assaulted her eyes. The house was rather dingy. Though there was a rather familiar scent hanging in the air. Not that she had long to try to figure it out before she promptly threw up...

Then; everything went black...


	2. Into The Fire

**KidSnatched**

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 **A/N - I do not own any of the world of JK Rowling, if I did I'd be sunning myself on a Hawaiin beach instead of living in Wales. Ah well.**

 **There is a film reference in here, house points to who spots it - just make sure to mention your house in reviews xx**

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 **Guest 1** : I did say in the blurb that Hermione garners a lot of attention from Death Eaters and I wrote warnings at the top before the story started so those who did not like did not feel like they should carry on. I focus on love triangles or squares. I have found myself in a situation where two guys I really liked, also really liked me – it's what I know.

 **Pgoodrichboggs** : My faithful reader – I am pleased by your review – your reward is this next chapter.

 **Guest 2** : THANK YOU! MWAH. Kissy, kissy!

 **Sevvieluscious** : Happy to oblige my dear.

 **Serenite Rose** : What an interesting username and that is incredibly sweet to worry about Hermione. The girl will need all the luck she can get. Especially as the story progresses.

 **Vampirela69** : Maybe, but I was taking artistic license and I figured that she was fairly trapped so her aim would not be too hard. I hope I have addressed this issue in this chapter. I do hope you continue to read though x

 **Flames4thought** : Wait no more, dear one.

 **Roon0** : Thank you, dear – please enjoy the update.

 **Hanable-13** : PM to share your worries so I can put you at ease. I always do come through with a character decision. Saying that, this is going to be a very dark story, Hermione/Multi story – some are ones she, herself, in the story baulks at but... well, you'll see... I call this genre Romangst.

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 _Now – onto the story... More Questions brings forth more answers that asks for more questions – it is a vicious cycle. My Hermione is calm, logical, fights when necessary, and knows when to speak and when not to. It's Ron's characteristic to fly off the handle, not Hermione's._

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 **Into the Fire**

Where was she? Why was she here? Whose bed was she in? How long had she been out for? Who was the scruffian that bought her to this dingy hell? Ugh, she sighed as she rolled her head. Quickly, Hermione spotted the door to freedom at the corner of her room. Groaning, she clambered out of the grimy old bed. It was then memories flooded her mind: Of being seduced then kidnapped in a whirl and a crack. A few tears escaped the rims of her eyes as she recalled that she had deleted herself from her parents lives and sent them to Australia. Saying goodbye to the Singh family after playing with their adorable daughter. The warmth and charm of the strange man who seemed to think there was something sexual between them without a proper introduction. Coming to her senses before anything serious happened. Failing to escape, even though she had kicked him in the sensitive area, for his arms were longer than her legs and he managed to curl one around her slim waist thus preventing her from fleeing out the back door. Hiding his obvious pain in doing so. Then, she moaned, passing a hand along her eyes trying to stop the room spinning around her head. Merlin, she had even vomited before blacking out. No wonder she had a pounding headache.

Flight reflexes kicked in the moment her hand wrapped around the old fashioned knob. Holding her breath as she twisted it to escape. The click resonated through the room. Closing her eyes as she slowly opened the bedroom door. Once Hermione was standing in the corridor of the second floor, Hermione heard two voices harshly snapping back and forth in a heady debate. Though the words themselves were muffled, the tonal differences indicated at least two men. Great! She reached around her back and closed her eyes in relief that her kidnapper(s) did not leave her wandless.

Her fingers inched towards her wand as she slowly began to creep down the hallway. Nothing in this house gave her an ounce of a clue as to whom she was taken to. Who decided that she should be here? Tight knots pulled in on her gut as she cautiously stepped down the dark narrow and, please to Godric, not creaky staircase. The discussion from a closed off room the other side of the banister grew heated. Perfect, they would not hear her leave. Freedom, she could smell it. So why did she doubt it was that simple? There was something familiar about this home. She had felt the atmosphere around her somewhere before but she was still focussed on escape to pinpoint what it was. Cautiously, Hermione proceeded on. Taking gentle care with each step she took. Keeping the door from whence the voices came in her peripheral vision.

Turning her head she saw the front door – easy does it, Hermione. Two more steps down and then two strides to the door, _Alohomora_ and get to the damn Burrow as soon as possible. Once her foot reached the ground floor of this house the voices took on some kind of clarity. Swirling her head to the direction to the closed door, stalling a little to hear what little she could of the verbal combat; she swore she heard... no? Shaking her head which only made her feel whoozy, throbbing temples almost caused her to collapse on the dirty floor of the hallway. No, she scoffed, it was ridiculous that this unkempt, festering pit of damp could be where _he_ lived. Heart thudding in her chest, echoing through her ears, Hermione stepped on the threshold and reached for the door handle. As she was about to make her escape Hermione was swooped up in those strong arms again and physically dragged into the room that was previously closed off to her.

"I told ya," the still unknown David Essex type said good-naturedly. "Shoulda tied her up!"

"I'm surprised you can walk considering what I did to you," she stated calmly.

"Can't keep a good Snatcher down, luv," the man murmured in her ear. "Compared to a Cruciatus from Bitch Lestrange your feeble little attempt on the family jewels was nothing noteworthy."

Hermione kept her head pointed down on the floor so she still remained blissfully ignorant as to who had demanded her presence in this most unorthodox manner. The scent of old books assaulted her and it calmed her more than any sleeping draught or calming potion could.

Threadbare, damp splattered, carpet indicated the homeowner took no pride in this being their holiday residence. Gloomy aspect seemed to shroud her like a musty, dark robe. Did a Dementor reside here? This was a home that had never known love. The smog covered windows suggested somewhere near factories. So she was in a lower class workers home. Lowly born. Though she did not believe in all that. After all, Charles Dickens worked hard in a blacking factory before he emerged from the soot and the faeces into higher middle class morality, without which many people now would not be able to read or write as it was he, along with right minded fellow influentials, made sure even the poorest of the poor received an education. Himself a prolific writer despite his circumstances. Hermione knew he was no saint but she had great admiration for Charles Dickens.

Yet, the lowliest of Wizards could use a few glamours to cheer up a place. Damn her compassionately big heart as it treacherously allowed room for sympathy toward its unhappy occupant. Why would anyone _want_ to dwell in this dump if they could remain snug in the Castle or find a hotel to live in – Hermione would have gladly sacrificed her entire wages to do just that if this was the alternative.

"My wards are strong enough."

WHAT? Don't panic, Hermione. She _was_ in Professor Snape's home just as she feared. Professor Severus Snape's abode. Why? What did he want with her? It cannot be sexual – Hermione did not think herself anything beautiful – in her mind this man would only view her as this sexless brainiac with a penchant for jumping up and down on her chair when she knew an answer. So, if it is not sexual – as Professor Snape would surely prefer older, prettier, more intellectual women than a frousty haired, mudblood such as her, what was it he needed from her? Couldn't be knowledge, as Professor Snape's intelligence was sexy at best and interesting at least. Suddenly, she felt like Mary in The Secret Garden. A sallow, plain, ugly duckling. So, she breathed a sigh of relief. Safe in her assumption that it was not a sexual motive. Hermione wondered if it could be to do with gaining knowledge of Harry for his Lord...

Little did she know that Severus Snape blasted those rose bushes because her gorgeous periwinkle blue gown opened his eyes to her femininity. Like any moral man he felt disgusted by the way his body reacted to her inborn grace, elegance and charm. Fidgeting a little, Hermione supposed that, as Snape was a Death Eater he could demand such, though she did not see why he would. What else could it be if it was not for rape or knowledge – the only other alternatives were...

Surely he would not... no... Hermione had to be logical and stoic about this. Deep down, she was still confused over his actual loyalty. Something she wanted to hash out with the Wizard once and for all, just like she allowed Sirius the chance to explain, it would be unjust not to allow Professor Snape, a man whom she admired for his wilful presence, and respected for his intelligence, even if misapplied, in the Dark Arts. A man whom she would never be able to forget. A Teacher with still so much life wisdom to impart. He _had_ to be Light... right? If only he allowed her a little trust...

"You knew she'd try ta escape?" the kidnapper said with incredulity, "so why din't we keep 'er gagged?"

"I would have been extremely disappointed if she did not _at least_ make an attempt," sneered Snape. Odd, Hermione thought. Why was he not torturing her on the spot? Not that she wanted him too. "Though I remain unconvinced that you have delivered," all Hermione could do was squirm slightly. "I have explained the description of the girl to you hundreds of times," he stepped closer so her gaze rested on bright shining, black dragon hide boot. Wincing as she thought of the damage it could do to her should he decide to kick her. "It is obvious you have not listened to a word I said," Hermione wondered how the Professor could doubt her identity. "You know I specifically asked you to bring me a frizzy haired termagant of a girl." Gulping Hermione thought it safer to let them discuss her over her head for now. "What I see you brought me instead, is a shapely young woman who has sense to keep her mouth closed, and tamed follicles," Hermione frowned a little at that as she was certain she was still the same Hermione Granger he had in his classroom for six years. "Something I am more than aware Miss Granger is incapable of doing." Hermione did her best not to protest at that. What Snape said next shocked her slightly and caused her to re-evaluate her first summation of why she was bought here. "Not to mention I said she was nothing noteworthy to look at – yet here stands someone whom even I could tolerate to look upon and spend a pleasant evening with."

Alright, Hermione sighed as she took study of the way his trousers moved when he thrust his hands in the pockets and then she felt his hand brush some of her hair aside and she found her knees quivering. Almost swooning at the herbal scent he carried with him. The way he said those words; what was his idea of a pleasant evening? That could mean anything!

"NAH YOU told me to bring you the best friend of the inexplicably stupid Potter brat, and," the man sighed. "No disrespect intended Sev, but I think you need your eyes tested. I mean," she felt another hand brush through her hair and her breath slowed within, scared to move in case he used her locks as a weapon against her. "What _I_ see is a sexy lithe young filly who needs a piece of meat wedged bet..."

"Yes, thank you, I need none of your Snatcher Slang when your eyes tells me enough of what you wish to do to my _guest_." Clearly Professor Snape was tired of this man being in his home. "I want to ask you a question, girl!" he snapped. "So stop studying my shoes and look up," like the obedient little schoolgirl she was, Hermione did as was told. "If you really are Miss Granger I would expect no hesitation: You caused a HATSTALL when you were sorted, if you really are Miss Granger – what was the other house you were almost selected for?"

"Ravenclaw," Hermione said then immediately flickered her gaze back to his footwear.

Guest? So she was right, he clearly meant her no harm and his intentions were pure. Unfortunately. Not that she was that disappointed, just, it would be kind of hot to be ravished by the enemy. Not that he was as far as she was concerned. Just that if she was to be taken as a Death Eater slave she'd rather Severus or, even Draco, be her master than someone of Dolohov's ilk.

Laughing, the man brought her gently closer to him whilst now her eyes were finally braving to look at her surroundings, trying not to act like a fawn in headlights. Surreal. Too surreal. Gazing around the sitting room she closed her eyes not trusting herself to look into the fathomless depths that were his gorgeous eyes of her former crush. The day he found that out was the most embarrassing moment of her life. Earning an unfair 10 points off and a private lecture from McGonagall.

Swaying her head in an attempt to free her curls from this tough man's grip only aggravated 'Essex' and he took delight in equal measure, as he used that as an excuse to tighten his hold. A thick caramel coil soon wound around his wrist. Eventually she also gave up trying to avoid her former teacher's sneering leer. Timidly, she raised her eyes, still not trusting herself to speak, for what could she say? The stern Professor was different in his own home. Guarded, but less abrasive. This was his house, his rules went. It did not help that the Artful Dodger's descendant was trying to make his claim on her.

"This man don't believe we 'as a connection, darling," the still unnamed captor said in her ear. "Why don't you convince 'im and we can finish what we started earlier?"

Hermione gritted her teeth and flashed a look of fire towards whom she must consider an enemy though it hurt her terribly to do so. "I cannot lie," she whispered though she hoped her gaze spoke for her.

"See," the man smirked against the smooth cheek. "Mutual consent – we're all adults here, eh, Sev?"

" _Mr_ Snape!" Hermione said through gritted teeth. "No one as intelligent as him should be so degraded by such an inane nickname like that!" Great, he killed the most powerful wizard, yet you feel the need to defend him like you do Neville. "That is... I mean... He should be feared and respected – awed silence should follow in his wake at even a _twitch_ of his robes." All the while gazing straight into his eyes hoping that he was using legilimency so she could convey how much she hated her predicament of being this close to the uncouth Wizard that held a hank of hair possessively twirled around his wrist and lower forearm. "So, it's Mr. Snape to you."

"Ooo, 'ear that, looks like you got yerself a girl at last, _Sev_!" That last word hissed dangerously. As if this man had marked her for his and saw Snape as a rival for ownership. "What 'Ouse were ya in, luv?"

"Gryffindor; where dwell the brave at heart!" Hermione said staunchly.

"Explains why you're so fiery tempered," the man's fingers pinched into her flesh. "Now back to my crotch," I'd rather not, Hermione thought rolling her eyes. "You din't exactly give it your all luv," now he licked the rim of her ear. "Besides," he sighed, "your dear _Mr_ Snape gave me an ointment to calm down any swelling so I'm raring to go again, angel – don't want to disappoint that sweet old Mrs Kirkbride after all, do we?"

"Is that a threat?" Hermione's breath quickened. Just the thought that her old nanny with such fascinating stories could be in trouble would hurt her heart more so than Dumbledore's death.

"Hmm, not unless you want it to be, luv," the man growled as he pushed his erection into the curve of her butt. "Come on – darlin," he started pressing hot little pinpricks of kisses all down the side of her neck, nibbling behind her ear. "Tell Mr Snape to let us go an we won't be bothered by his overlarge hooter in our business ever again."

Tilting her chin defiantly, looking Snape squarely in the face. Begging him to step in: "You know nothing of me, Sir!"

"I know that you're a lioness ready to pounce, luv – want me to tame the beast inside?"

When it was clear that Snape was not about to rescue her from this man's grip, Hermione took it into into her own hands. Swiftly, she elbowed the oaf in the solar plexus. Shocked by how well aimed that blow was, he released his grip on her hair. 'Essex's' cheeks puffed out as he was actually winded by her assault. Without giving him a chance to recover, she whirled around and lifted the back of his coat gruffly yanking it over the man's head. In a surprising move she then jumped on his back, grabbed his wrists together, effectively trapping his arms between her legs. Twirling her wand in circles she muttered: _Incarcerous_ , whereupon his wrists became magically bound behind his back. Forcefully, she kneed him in the small of his back making the man bend double. Straddling him now around the waist Hermione kept his tied hands to his back with her knee. Puffing due to the exertion, Hermione blew her growing bushier by the minute hair away from her face as a free hand was pressed to the back of his neck. A harsh kick behind his knees made him groan and collapse completely on his front. Not wasting a second Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist still keeping her small hand on the back of his neck pressing his face in the dust filled threads of Snape's miserable looking excuse for a carpet.

Once she was certain he could not get up easily Hermione drew her wand down the length of his legs extending the cord down in one strong strip until it reached his ankles which she had stuck together previously to make sure he would not kick her back. Swirling her wand in steady circular motions making sure his legs were tight. Once Essex of the Magical world was truly trussed and subdued, Hermione flicked the wand to a plain chair smirking with pride as it shot forward. Placing a sticking charm on the seat she yanked the offender by his admittedly gorgeous hair and thrust him on. Pointing her wand to his throat, tilting his chin in the process using his ponytail as leverage, she lifted an eyebrow in a show of cold hearted calculation. Honeyed eyes glinted maliciously at him.

"One more inappropriate comment like that, _luv_ ," she mimicked perfectly, "I will hex you from naval," she jabbed the point where his belly button would be, "to nose," she then raised the point of her wand to the bridge of his nose. "Got that, _darlin_ '?"

Severus watched in admiration as this former pupil was breathless due to her efforts. Hair crackling. Wild. Caramel coloured eyes shining with heat. Heart shaped lips parted and plump – the rise and fall of her breasts would catch any red-blooded man's attention. Severus Snape, despite rumours, was certainly hot blooded and as flawed as any other man in the face of an over exerted attractive female.

This was when she expected fury at being outsmarted; like before with Death Eaters but, instead, the yet to be named man's lust filled gaze swept up and down her body. Finally, lust fuelled indigo eyes settled on the view of her slightly exposed generously full breasts encased in black satin bra.

"I knew you liked it rough," he winked. "See what I mean, Sev," the smirk plastered over his face caused Hermione to almost lose her resolve and go with him to wherever he lived, those swoon worthy dimples on display again had managed to weaken her knees and almost take him up on his offer. Almost, but not quite. "She gets me. Now, I'm not leaving if she don't come with me and I promise to keep your secret for you."

A sneer, worthy of the Potions Master himself, splayed across her delicate features causing the man in the chair to falter slightly. Forcefully, Hermione grabbed a hair slide from her curls that tumbled down like a river of molten caramel twists down her shoulder hiding the side of her face. All Snape wanted to do was run his fingers through those untameable locks. Growling, Hermione placed a travelling charm on the delicate trinket.

"Not likely, _luv_ ," she snarled as she pressed it into the rapscallions palm. Suddenly the scoundrel was gone.

"I seem to have greatly misjudged you, Miss Granger," her former Professor said as she turned around. Hair following the speed of her turn. "What I am shocked at, however, is that you have _yet_ to attack _me_."

That was a valid point but Hermione was too tired to argue right now. The self-defence both magical and muggle took it out of her. Her Professor/Captor could see she was wilting. One long, elegant stride, was all it took before he cupped her elbow – the one she hit the Dimpled Dastard with, and gently led her to an ancient chair. Chivalrous, Hermione thought, as he firmly took both her hands in his as he sat her down. Not one Gryffindor male, Remus aside, had ever shown that genteel side to them before. Yet the Slytherin Snark showed more manners in one gesture than she was ever likely to experience from Ron. Curiouser and curiouser, as Alice was wont to say. How was he so kind to her knowing that she could, theoretically, turn him in with one Patronus call to Harry? Damn my need to be justified, she sighed, to want to be proved right about this man.

"I suppose I should," she admitted weakly. "I gave Sirius Black time to talk when everyone believed his biggest crime was the murder of all his friends – it would be churlish if I did not offer you the same courtesy as regards your own _unclear_ motives."

Whatever reply Severus was expecting that was not it. "Hmm," in another shockingly chivalrous move, he knelt down and checked her face for signs of being beaten. Thankfully she was unharmed. Hermione felt a little pool of warmth settle in her belly at the sign of his obvious concern. Then she remembered how he leapt in front of her to defend them from a werewolf. "He did not hurt you, elsewhere?"

"No, your reminder stopped him from going too far," she smiled sadly. "I almost caved in."

"That man can screw for England."

For some reason that made Hermione chuckle. "I will be more careful in future, Sir."

"With him or with anyone?"

His concern for her, after weeks of supposedly murdering Dumbledore, did not seem to quite fit with the evil traitor that Harry saw Snape as. Puzzled; she felt her ex-Professor move close to her. It was strange he required an answer from her.

"Anyone," she sighed in a timid voice. "Even you."

"Just what I needed to hear," was his relieved response. The care he seemed to expel from the darkest depths of his jet gaze, softened his features and his stance was one of absolute compassion. Seemingly begging for her trust. "Miss Granger, I suppose you would trust me enough to make you a cup of tea?"

Silently, she nodded. "I suppose another sneak escape would be useless, Sir?" she smiled playfully.

"I am afraid so," the Professor smirked back – dear gods, she has dimples! He thought, how am I going to survive in this small wreck for a night knowing this is actually Hermione Bloody Granger. Complete with charming accoutrements I just want to explore. "It is for your own safety, after all."

Well, this has escalated rather quickly from dread to being alone with him to now wanting to be closer than arms length with him, Hermione thought, down cub. Think of Voldemort in the shower – that should cool your indiscriminate libido. "You _are_ aware Harry is out for your blood right now," Hermione said. Regret and sadness laced her tone. "I tried to get him to think about how you looked – to read between the lines – the moment your name comes up he blocks me out."

"There has never been a time when a Potter was not out for my blood," Snape said, resigned to the life that fate threw him. Even his heart seemed to yearn again – he wondered if Lily would have liked Hermione? Of course she would, he could just imagine how the two would have chatted by the Lake. Gulping down that particular fantasy he looked her in the eyes and said: "I do feel though at least one of The Golden Trio requires something of an explanation. You, I felt, was the one who would be more likely to listen with a relatively neutral pair of ears."

Laughter mixed with incredulity at hearing the most sarcastic Professor of all time pay her a compliment in disbelief Hermione shook her vast mane of curls trying to contain her amusement. Something has happened to the female member of the Golden Trio, Snape mused, she was not as aggravating here as she was in the classroom. A student he had always derided. Loathed. Yet, she was in his sitting room weeks after he murdered the epitome of Gryffindorian Morale, and was comfortable enough to banter. Not even a half-hearted attempt to hex him though he knew she had done so in the past.

Suddenly, Severus realised, she was less a girl and more a woman. That was not a comfort to Snape. It meant she was perfect for the likes of Greyback to make his Wolf Mate. That, Snape decided, would be something he would definitely save her from – even if it meant going against Dumbledore's orders.

Eileen, Lily, Narcissa and Bellatrix aside – Snape rarely had girls or women come to his home. Or be bought to his abode. Especially ones that were scantily clad in a khaki green strappy vest top with a silver bra strap tempting him to brush her golden shoulder, and a pair of tight stone wash light blue denim shorts. Elongating her already long legs. Why she ever had a crush on him was a mystery! Hopefully that had lessened. Otherwise her presence in his home tonight was not going to go well for him. He doubted she would take kindly to the suggestion of keeping warm together.

Once he returned with a mug she gratefully wrapped her fingers around the heat. "I suppose when I leave shortly after your explanation I am going to be what... Obliviated?"

"No, I would not do that – what is the point of explaining something to you only to wipe the conversation out?" Gracefully, he leaned back in his own leather, brass studded wing back chair, steepling his fingers, tapping them against his pursed lips. Long, beautiful fingers that Hermione found herself constantly staring at whenever she could. Imagining them pump... oh hell, she had not got over her crush one whit! "I am displaying an odiously Gryffindorian trait in that I have decided I can trust you."

Blushing, Hermione coughed: "Sorry," she sipped as she glanced around the Dickensian sitting room. "Thank you, sir," she took another confident draught of her beverage. "You remembered?"

"I observed everyone's habits during that summer sojourn in Grimmauld Place," he smiled. "Benefit of being a spy." Tilting his head observing the young long limbed woman before him. "You liked yours tasting of tannin. I know," he elegantly sipped his own. "I do too. Milky tea is a waste." Snorting, Hermione hid her smile behind her mug. "I may have to disabuse you of something though."

"What?" now she was worried.

"I am to keep you here overnight," he said.

"On whose orders?" she sat up. Anger sparked behind her eyes. "I won't betray Harry, Sir," she hissed.

Ah, there was the Hermione Granger he knew. "I am not going to require you to do so, Miss Granger," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Honestly," he leaned over trying to keep his tone gentle. "Are you calm now to listen?"

Immediately, Hermione folded her legs underneath her as she sat holding the vessel containing the soothing nectar. "Yes, sir," she sighed chastened by his response.

"Professor Dumbledore's Portrait has ordered me to keep an eye on you for tonight, it appears your plan to protect your parents has been found out and the Dark Lord has sent a group to the Airport to kill them."

"WHAT?"

"Remain calm," the Professor said. His voice seemed to soothe the distressed lady. "Surreptitiously I have passed this information along and, right now, Remus and Tonks along with Arthur and Kingsley with a few other Aurors are there to make sure they get on the Plane before..."

"I was so careful," she muttered. "I did not tell anyone, not even my friends."

"I applaud your caution, Miss Granger."

"I was not careful enough," she sank down further into the oversized chair gulping down the still piping hot tea in one throat burning swallow to shock her out of her burning shame at failure. "How," she gasped as her voice was hoarse, "was I watched?"

"Possibly, there are various groups of Death Eaters – some, normally the younger ones, are used to go into Muggle Pubs in areas where..."

Hermione groaned. "I went to the pub last night with some Muggle friends of mine," she sighed and glanced at the listening Professor, "I went to the loo to have a little cry – I swear I put silencing charms and muffled my voice."

"Someone clearly finited your spells," Professor Snape surmised. "You needed to clear your head and talk to yourself in order to do so?"

Glumly, she nodded. "I was an..."

"No," he said softly, "you had no idea you were being followed."

"I did when you were following us around at school."

"I have a rather significant presence when I require it to be so."

Offering a small smile she leaned over. Professor Snape wished she would not do so. No wonder that scum had such a licentious leer on his face. Tender, pale, firm ample breasts tempted even him. He was just a man. Severus had to avert his eyes to her face.

"So – by this," she twirled her hand back and forth between them, "I trust you are still on our side but even less openly so?"

"Correct."

Nodding, Hermione stood up. Tapping her fingers on the mug as she began to peruse his books: "This house seems sad," she sighed. "If this house had emotions it would be crying all the time."

"This has not been a particularly bright part of my life," he replied following her with his eyes. Unlike Bella she did not touch anything – just allowed her fingers to hover over spines of books that took her interest, some of them dark by nature. Inching her face closer to peer at curiously shaped objects. Some of them made her blush. Especially at a Wizarding knick knack of a couple passionately copulating right in front of Floral Properties In Healing Potions by Rose E Blümkind. "I may add you should not tell Potter about this."

Scornfully she laughed and faced him: "You have just met Harry, it seems," she smirked. A woman, Severus sighed. A lovely woman. "Do you think he'd believe me if I did?"

"No," he smiled. Hermione felt her heart flutter. That old crush came back with a vengeance. "I am surprised you do."

Tilting her head down on the floor she glanced coyly from beneath her eyelashes: "I can't imagine why you would kill Professor Dumbledore, Sir, but I am sure you do not take joy in his demise."

"An understatement."

"I am sure you had your reasons – there was no way Draco could have done it – that THING," she spat, her hatred for the Dark Lord evident in her aspect. Snape raised an eyebrow in admiration for her positive passionate dislike. So at odds with her usual compassionate nature that he felt there was hope for her yet. "Just because he could happily kill as a teenager does not mean everyone can. Draco may be many things a murderer I am sure he isn't."

Amazing how she could be so wonderfully perceptive when it came to people yet never bothered to read between the lines in text. Enigma indeed. He found himself near her as she seemed to cackle with the oncoming set of adult magic. Better tread carefully, Severus.

"Who was the man who brought me here?" Hermione asked as she idly took in his extensive Potions shelves. Strange that he held barely any Defence Against The Dark Arts texts. It made Hermione wonder if those rumours were just that, rumour. His first speech tipped her off that his heart lay behind a cauldron and a stirring rod than it did in duelling. "He did not introduce himself."

Snape was standing just inches away from her. Stretching up he pulled a book down from a shelf Hermione would not have been able to reach and offered it to her. Gulping at the gasp she emitted when his shirt sleeve brushed against her skin as he took her now empty mug from her hands so she could hold the book.

"Matthias Scabior," he replied. Gods, she smelled delicious. "The best at what he does. Inordinately clever and amazingly aggravating."

Hermione giggled as she tenderly leafed through her hosts manual. "Do you have anyone in the Order that you can trust – one to explain your reasons too without fear of a wand being pointed at your throat?" she asked, compassion was her thing, and she really wished he had a friend on his actual side, to confide in. "Remus may listen."

"How about you?" he whispered.

Wait, what? Hermione closed her eyes and took in a deep breath as she realised he was stroking his fingers up and down her arms. What was wrong with her body? Why could it not melt in a pool of liquid with kind people?

"We... um," her throat constricted. Alone, with Professor Snape, wasn't going to be as simple as she first anticipated. Now trepidation flooded her heart. Somehow she knew this night was not going to be her on the sofa and him in the bed. Wow, he shuffled further forward. "We don't h-have," now she felt a slight nuzzling on the top of her head. "H-have good history, Sir," she tried to emphasise the 'sir' but, unsurprisingly, it did not deter him. "All right," she quivered as she was sure his lips had just buried themselves into her jaw. Already she was blacking out. Ensnaring the senses held double meaning now. "But you _are_ going to have to sit down once again as shall I and I promise to be as unbiased as I can."

It seemed as if someone had stolen a fur coat from her and dumped her in Siberia when Snape stepped away – all the breath returned to her and she hugged the book to her chest as she unsteadily made her way back to her seat where, now, she tried to sit as chastely as possible. Those dark eyes that used to terrify her now plunged her into territories unknown. Yet, she did not feel afraid. The man had all but made her collapse with barely a touch. Still, she rather _liked_ how it felt when all his focus and attention were on her.

"There is nothing to fear – I realise just now – it was improper and inappropriate for me to touch you the way I did," he hung his head in sheepish shame. "I have surely offended you with my unthought of attention."

Chewing her lower lip Hermione glanced across the room at this complex man. How could Sirius hate such a shy man, for he seemingly was, despite his dark posturing. All Hermione saw here and now was a man who felt he had stepped out of line with her. A man who was seemingly used to feeling repellent around women. A man who reminded her of Harry Potter far too much. A lonely man. How her compassionate heart bled for him, all Hermione wished to do was swipe aside his hair from his face, crawl into his lap and tell him he was being silly. Remembering this was Severus Snape tampered down that urge.

"Do I look offended?" she said instead.

Shyly – an emotion that Hermione would never have equated with Professor Snape until now, as he seemed to ooze snide confidence – Professor Snape looked at her with obsidian orbs: "Worryingly not," he smiled a rather cute lopsided grin that reminded Hermione of Remus when he was around Tonks. "Though you should be."

"Why?" she asked.

Hell, she thought, if you treated us like this in school I'd have to compete with all the Witches in Hogwarts. There was definitely something there, Hermione surmised. A hidden handsomeness which he seemed reluctant to let out. Thinking back on it, this Wizard did far more to help them throughout their time at Hogwarts than any other, to make sure they were safe. Severus was a good man. Maybe that was her crush talking. Still, she just could not see this man as evil incarnate. Deeply flawed, yes. Evil? No!

"Pardon." He blinked owlishly.

This is not how you are supposed to react, Miss Granger, you are supposed to be disgusted by the fact that I dare to look upon you with a smile let alone hold you in my oily clutches. A young lively, beautiful... yes, you are beautiful – should recoil from me with disgust. Yet here you sit, long limbed, wild-haired, with acres of flesh exposed to my all too appreciative gaze – oh Sweet Salazar – the moment you can Severus, you need to brew yourself a Libido Dampening Potion and drink the entire cauldron. If she knew what was going through the sewers of your mind she'd brave the wards and flee.

"Explain why _I_ should be offended?" she asked again. That light that ignited the rim of her iris' when she was about to debate sparkled with her as her face flushed with excitement at the prospect of discussing this like adults instead of shouting like children. "You should know I do not buy into prejudice. If I hated Purebloods as much as a _tiny arrogant_ few hate my kind would I not be just as bad?"

"Yes but..." my gods she's beautiful and her breasts are swaying as she is waving her hands around. Dumbledore you are as meddlesome in death as you were in life.

"Or is it the _perceived_ inter-house Rivalry – I'm Gryffindor and you're Slytherin so I should be outraged?"

"I guess..." not the point but please let me get a word in. Oh and now your bouncing up and down – at 12 that was irksome but now you are 18 I wish you'd sit bloody still so I could keep myself from pouncing on you. Please to Godric, do not look further down than my face, "... Miss Granger..."

"Or is it because you are technically a teacher and I a student?"

"Well..." hmm, yes thank you for pointing that one out. Now I have naughty _Head Girl_ fantasies as I hand you out a 'detention.' Down snake!

"Then again there is the age difference is there not?"

"Um... not..." 19 years but who is counting. Certainly not Remus with Tonks. "That is..."

"Or because you feel you ' _murdered_ ' Professor Dumbledore I should be disgusted by the sight of you?"

"Miss Granger," he hissed firmly. Putting on his Professorial Voice. Finally, he rolled his eyes, a word in edgeways. Though she made for some interesting discussion points. "May I answer your questions?"

"You never let me answer yours," she said stiffly. A raw spot with her. The Professor tilted his head to the side and regarded her posture. After a pregnant pause long enough to have bred a big bouncy baby of regret passed between them, Hermione sighed: "Go on, then."

"Yes, to retaliate into the same mindset would definitely make you as bad as those who buy into the Pureblood ideal, but," he smirked, "I am not a Pureblood," hmm, was she smiling? "Secondly, the inter-house rivalry is, indeed, a falsehood too – I believe you are aware of many happy marriages between Slytherin's and Gryffindor's as well as Slytherin's and Hufflepuff's for that matter – so that is not as strong a barrier as certain people would like to believe and," he felt it again – the urge to flirt with her. Snape leant forward holding her gaze completely as if there was an invisible unbreakable force between them, "if I were to pursue you believe me that would not come into first consideration to stop."

Hermione coughed and tried to glance away – the fur coat was back and now she was in Hawaii. "Sorry sir I..." now was her turn to be cut off.

"The Teacher/Student is a little grey I am aware – but you are the age of consent and I can honestly tell you that if we were to allow that form of behaviour between us – there would not be too much objection as many times past it has occurred that students in the final year begin relationships with their Professors – it happened in my time, in point of personal reference."

Now Hermione was eyeing the door wondering if she had the strength to leave before she turned to mush. Here she was, in Professor Snape's house, debating on a rhetorical relationship. A rhetorical relationship that could easily become a real relationship if he continued gazing at her like that. "That... is..." she began slowly. "I mean to..."

Like she did with him, he acted towards her. Cutting her off before she could formulate an appropriate response. "The age difference I shall somewhat grant you as a concern but as Magical Humans live longer than Muggles – a heck of a lot longer – it becomes rather moot. Again there are a long line of age-gap unions that last well into their 200th years."

Blushing at that Hermione now focussed a clouded gaze on his more than delicious hands – those long callused fingers. The way they clasped on his lap and rubbed up and down his thighs invitingly so. A small, primal part of her wanted to curl up in his lap and let the man protect her. The larger thinking part of her wanted to have more fireside debates like this; "I just..." she tried again to explain her motives behind her queries.

"As for the ' _murder_ ' of Dumbledore I believe that is what you wished to discuss as a friend?" he arched an eyebrow.

What the hell am I supposed to do tonight if I have to sleep down here and he is up there? "I was trying to think of things somewhat from your perspective," she whispered still looking at those elegant hands. Remembering how he stroked her bare arms moments before. "I cannot imagine you with someone you would not consider an intellectual equal."

"There are few I would consider such, unfortunately," he smirked, tilting his head just so, "most of them are men."

This elicited an awkward laugh from her. This conversation was bordering on flirtation: "What of me, sir?" her voice shrunk and she felt like a child again.

"I could certainly help you in many ways, Miss Granger," he smiled as he realised her attention were on his fingers. Hmm, how shall I play this? "But first I..."

Both Hermione and Snape shot straight up as the Wards crackled around them. Someone was banging on the door. Peeking through the curtain to look at his unwanted guests. Visibly blanching he took Hermione's biceps and apparated with her to his bedroom.

"Stay!" he ordered in a tone that brooked no argument.

"Who is it, Sir?"

"If we're to be friends, I would rather you call me by my given name, Hermione."

Dehydrated! Need water! In Snapes bedroom. Oh boy, calm down. "Who is it, Severus?"

"The Lestrange family – Bellatrix, Rabastan and Rodolphus. All would kill you in an instant."

"They would not come into..."

"They are Death Eater's, Hermione, of course they would – under the bed!"

Hermione never felt more afraid in her entire life. Bellatrix was the reason why Neville was practically an orphan. As for the other two – goodness knows what they would think if they saw her in Severus living quarters – least of all his bedroom. Dressed the way she was the men would leer even if they did disapprove of her kind. After he set some particularly complicated wards on the bedroom – he went downstairs.

Another arrival at the door. Snape's voice low but clear. The reply spoken of in a cheeky chappy voice that made Hermione cringe. At the right price, would Severus sell her out just to save face with his comrades? That would leave her to either the leering attentions of the unmarried Lestrange or the roguish Snatcher...

Hermione kept quiet – playing scenes from Schindler's List and Anne Frank's Diary in her mind. Why could there not be a Wizard version of Oscar Schindler? She wiped silent tears from her eyes as she tried not to sneeze from the damp and dust.

Footsteps thundered up the same steps she crept down on earlier. The oncoming threat persuaded Hermione to crawl further in the shadows – three pairs at least. She counted with her ears. Male judging by the stride. Brace yourself, she thought as she grabbed her wand to defend herself with if needed.

The rattle of the bedroom doorknob echoed with the violent palpitation of her heart – could someone be able to break down Severus' protective Wards or work out why he has his bedroom so guarded?

Courage, Hermione, courage.

… The door creaked open ...

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Taster for next chapter: Snape and Hermione get closer and Lucius makes an entrance.


	3. Acid Bath

**This is to acknowledge that the world of Harry Potter, Hogwarts, and characters therein, belong to JK Rowling and I am only writing what if situations based on her wonderful imagination. I do not earn a sickle for this story.**

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 **AN:** Thank you, again for all the support and reviews this story has so far recieved. The M rating goes into force in this chapter.

 **Chapter Triggers** : Attempted rape. Objectifying women.

 **Fancast** :

 **Rodolphus Lestrange** : Rufus Sewell

 **Rabastan Lestrange** : Tom Hiddleston

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 **KidSnatched**

 **ACID BATH**

Courage, Hermione, courage. She repeated as she saw three pairs of feet stand just inches away from her. One stood at the foot of the bed whilst the others flanked either side. A clash of colognes slammed her nasal passages almost making her retch.

"I told you, Rabastan," Severus sighed in his best Annoyed With Neville tone, "there is no one aside from _me_ in my home."

"Unless _you_ have taken to wearing a lightly scented beautifully enchanting sensual fragrance I refuse to believe you," the one called Rabastan quipped. Hermione could see the dimples in the man's obvious smirk. "Just the hang in the air and I know I want the wearer and it is not you, Snape!" Then she felt the pressure of the mattress distend onto her. Trying not to cry as the rough metallic spikes pinched into her skin. Seems like no one trusts him. "Oh, Severus, you may as well reveal her. The aroma is too delectable for words." When this is over I am going to find a new signature scent, Hermione promised herself. If I survive that is. "In fact," the man's contemplative tone worried Hermione. What had he worked out? "I think..." Then she felt a sharp yank on her hair and she was dragged out of her hiding place. Kicking her legs as her body twisted from beneath the Death Eater's grip on her thick follicles. Anne Frank, I feel you! She tried to relax but her innate Gryffindor was taking control. Once on her feet Hermione was just about to grab her wand and hex the Death Eater, good plan, if said Death Eater had not taken hold of her wrists and held them out in front of her. "Now, I see the scent in her sexily attired Muggle glory," Rabastan leered unashamedly taking long, languid glances at her breasts, licking his lips as he saw her nipples still hard from how Severus had turned her on prior to the Brat-Packs arrival. Lasciviously glinting eyes settled on the smooth flesh of her neck, harshly swiping her hair aside revealing how far down the line of her skimpy top went on her back. Hermione was reminded of those cartoons when the dog's jaw slackened and another smaller character was there standing under an umbrella. Yet, without access to her wand and tired after an already emotional helter-skelter day, Hermione tried for impassivity to her situation. "Gotta say that for Muggles – their garments are way easier to fumble about in, would you not say, Severus?"

"I have other needs on my time than the current ways insipid girls dress themselves, Rabastan," the dour man tried to treat this man with the same quelling glance he offered an entire classroom of children. However, the hardened criminal was immune to the scowl. "Effectively as this young woman is dressed it makes no point either way to me. For she is not my type."

"I think Mr Monk over there is lying darling, don't you?" Hermione saw the gleam in the Death Eater's sea green eyes. Like the sea they could change colour with his moods. Though she did not know that yet. "His lips say one thing but look at his eyes," she did. There was definitely something there. Was it wrong that she wanted him to... of course it is, he killed! "What say you, brother?"

With little movement of her head, Hermione managed to settle on the darker corner of this rather grim bedroom. Trying to find who Rabastan was addressing. She did not have to wait for long.

"I think Severus is just as base in his desires as the rest of us, Rabastan," the voice stepped out into the light. "Fancied his own pet, can't say I blame him," the tone matched the hunger in the man's eyes. It was not fair, her inner child pouted, I was not even being a Gryffindor then. I hid. "She's got a rack to eat!"

Hermione gazed into a face that was at once handsome but terrifying also. Scars dominated his visage. Azkaban tattoo's prominently displayed on the width of his neck. Deep angry turquoise blue eyes bored heavily into her own. The other one was holding her flush against his body by his arm.

"Told you, brother," he said. His arctic eyes so cold matching his blisteringly freezing tone. Hermione shivered. "Told you Potter's Mudblood friend was a cracking piece of crumpet, didn't I."

The other one approached her and cupped her jaw. Gripping his thumbs into her youthful soft fleshy cheek. Twisting her head around sharply so he could gaze into her wide, staring, but unafraid eyes: "Indeed she is, brother," he agreed. "It is a shame that she is not of our blood – I sense ambition in her."

Too numb to speak she tried to find Severus with her eyes. He was scowling. Not at her but at the way the men were looking at her: "Good teeth, Rabs," so the one in her face was Rodolphus. He released her jaw: "Shine in her eyes. Barely marred countenance."

What the hell? They were examining her, treating her the way she'd seen mind numbing Muggles on Countryfile do at so-called village fairs to their livestock. A commodity to be sold to become studs or brood mares or slaughtered. Again, all for the sake of bloodlines. Ugh!

"You can thank your nephew for the teeth," Hermione said calmly to the man standing in front of her. Not a quibble in her tone.

"A bit of fire, Rudi," Rabastan said in his icy cold flawless Nordic toned voice, sent pimples down her arms. "Think I'm going to enjoy breaking her spirit." Hermione tried not to show disgust at the obvious sign of lust this filthy man had for her already. "Oh, how prison changes a man," Rabastan sighed. "Twenty years ago you would have had your elegant swan like neck snapped!" He declared as he pressed his lips just below her lobe. "I must be getting soft in my old age," she felt hands cup her bum cheeks, "nice perky little thing, think she can take us?"

A certain member of your body proves you wrong, she sighed. Wait... what? Together? But... "How sweet," she said affecting a yawn. Conveying boredom in her stance and tone as if being leered on by lecherous Death Eaters was everyday for her. "Is this the way you talk to all the ladies or just children like me?"

The other man chuckled as he bent his head to sniff her in more: "I hardly think you are a child," he said as he groped a breast. Flicking her nipple with his thumb. Rodolphus hulked over her small frame as he took in her aspect with earnest dark and dilated eyes. Hermione wondered what was going to happen. Every time she struggled Rabastan gripped tighter around her waist. "I don't think you are even a virgin," her blush answered that question. "So pretty," then she felt his hot, heavy breath fall raggedly over her skin as a hand stroked down her abdomen down to the button of her shorts. One swift flick of thumb and forefinger had her shorts open with ease. Low, steady sound of the zip being pulled down increased Hermione's anxiety. Fingers against the corner of her sex. Fluidly they pulled down the small denim material, it seemed these brothers shared.

"That's enough Rodolphus," Snape snarled. His wand drawn against the man's throat. "As you say, this is my pet – I do not share."

"Too late, Severus," Rodolphus snarled back as he ripped the black lace panties off her with one fluid movement causing her to moan. "I want to have a little play – oh look at that," he allowed Severus to see. The Lestrange men both started to grope her. Rabastan took especial joy in bouncing her breasts in his hands pinching the nipples harshly as Rodolphus forcefully spread her legs apart with strong forearms. Without further ado the terrifyingly scarred and tattooed man commenced rubbing her seam causing her to gasp and whimper in shame. "Join in the party, Snape, she has plenty to go around."

Hermione managed to risk a gaze at her Professor – eyes pleading. A brief exploration of her mind showed him he was not to break cover. Not another prepared to sacrifice for him. Where did she find the strength to put up with these louts leering over her? Well, damn it all, not this time!

"I think your wife would hex your balls off if she knew what you were doing, Rodolphus and Crucio you at the same time."

"Oh dear," Rabastan sighed his hands had now reached her bare bum and he weighed the cheeks as he did the breasts. "Into spanking, dear?" he growled in her ear. "Does not matter," he smoothed his hand over a globe and, with untold violence he smacked her so hard she screamed. Forcing, her to lurch forward on his brother. Fingertips tilted her chin up smirking at the indignant light in her eyes, taking advantage of her open mouth, Rodolphus proceeded to plunge his tongue inside her – no sign of play here – he just wanted his tongue to do there what he wished another appendage to do elsewhere. Thrusting in and out of her mouth, moaning with pleasure as she began to respond. Rabastan noticed and decided to see if she would bite his brothers tongue with what he was about to do. "Aw, did I hurt you, dear?" no one missed the feigned concern in the younger Lestrange's voice. "Imagine how it felt when one of our members was killed because of your precious Order!"

Whimpering with pain Hermione's face streaked with tears from the assault on her body. As she was about to give in and let them get on with it they found the Dark Mark glowing on their arms. Hermione noticed Snape was not clutching onto his. So, he could tap into individual followers then. Interesting.

"Bloody Dark Lord!" muttered Rodolphus, "how does he do it?"

"This is not over," purred Rabastan in her ear as he swept a long lingering gaze up her body. Her breasts were perfect. "I will definitely become reacquainted with those delightful handfuls of fun, sweetheart." Cheekily winking and a dangerous smirk that would normally have Hermione's pulse racing and knee's weakening from another man. Instead, due to who was sending her this positive message, Hermione was left in naught but a vest and bra, shuddering with disgust instead. "Keep them entertained for me, cherry pie."

They both Disapparated as did Bella and, presumably, Scabior also. Hermione stood in the centre of Snape's bedroom practically naked, frozen, and slightly frightened of what Severus was going to do to her. Let's hope she and Snape could release some of that latent passion that seemed to sizzle over them before the trio of doom's visit.

Quickly, Snape removed his long vest top and wrapped it around her waist to cover her dignity. Gently, he led her to the bed. "I'm sorry," Severus said. One look at his deathly pallor showed Hermione that he meant it. That simple trust he felt from her wide cinnamon gaze, was enough to make him want to vomit. The genuine concern she felt from him, however, warmed her heart as did the notion that Professor Snape was now frightened to touch her. "I just thought they would look around and..."

"It is this blasted perfume Ron bought me for Christmas in our Fifth Year," she sobbed cracking under the strain of the day. "Does not seem to affect him the way it does those animals."

Should he touch her even though she probably would not want another man's hands on her for a long time to come. Not that he could blame her. "By the time the Dark Lord is done punishing them for their failure to murder your parents they would not be seeking you out for some time – I have no intention of healing them."

"You must if HE tells you to." Hermione said earnestly grabbing hold of his wonderfully big hand – a hint of fear for the Professor's life in her tear soaked eyes.

Touched by her warmth, Severus smiled slightly and squeezed in reply, but at the same time was annoyed by it. "Don't you start," he growled.

"Start with what, exactly?"

"Being so Dumbledore," he snarled. "I hated it when he told me those words: _Do what you must, Severus, you must never break cover no matter what he asks you to do_!" Rolling his eyes he glanced at Hermione's too innocent profile and smirked a little."You are too young," he sighed, "far too pretty."

Those last two words were spoken so quietly that Hermione was uncertain what he said until they floated past her, almost shimmering in the air. Shaking her head in denial at the thought of anyone finding her pretty, let alone blushing as they did so confused all ideas of what she perceived herself to be. However it seemed the Professor was awaiting her response. Shyly, Hermione risked a glance at the stern Professor next to her.

"I recall a time when you saw no difference," she said blankly.

"I must confess that comment maybe was a _touch_ childish – I wished to goad those two dun – friends, of yours."

"Hmm, it did not help."

"What do you mean?"

"Would it surprise you to learn Harry and Ron were not speaking with each other at the time, due to the fact that Harry was getting unwanted attention, because of that stupid cup!"

"So," the Potions Master sighed, "you were in a: Ron would like me to tell you that... situation were you?"

Rolling her eyes that were sparkling with amusement, Hermione smirked at the Prof – Severus – in front of her. "Yes, and Harry was stuck with me for companionship," she murmured lowering her eyes. "I still wonder why they like me."

You have got to be serious, Snape looked as if he was going to show her exactly why he thought they liked her until he remembered her ordeal moments before. It was then she noticed his arm jerk a little.

"You must go," she said in a small fearful voice tiny fingers plucking absent-mindedly at the coverlet.

All he wanted to do, right now, was lock her up in an ivory tower and make sure the world never knew of her. The world could spit her out due to her never ending sense of compassion. What a waste on those dolts, he sighed.

"What of you?"

This did not sound like a man out for Dumbledore's blood. No, this was a man broken by obligation. Recent events in her own private life offered her insight into that. It was unfair. That was war. No right or justice served in such situations.

"I will cope," she said.

"I will take you to an Apparition point where you can go to where you are supposed to be."

"No."

"Miss Granger," he tried to put the Professor voice back on but it seemed not to have an affect on her any longer, "you have to leave. I cannot be..."

"I'm staying until I know you are well, _Professor_ ," sarcasm in the last word evident by the way she spat it out as if the word was offensive to her. She followed it firmly with. "Besides you sent me here to explain why you felt the need to kill Dumbledore and I still have yet to hear your side of events that terrible night."

Sighing with exasperation Snape looked up at the ceiling and gripped onto the coverlet of his bed: "You're presence here is known," he sighed, "if the Dark Lord so chose he could send someone here to get you whilst I may have to stand by and watch you die – I am not prepared to go through that!"

Definitely at odds with what they once thought of this man, Hermione sighed, realising she would have to bolster him somehow. "Did you give up?" she asked.

"Give up, when?" genuinely thrown off by her question. Now we're talking, he sighed. This is the potential I've seen in your eyes. "I do not..." the arm was decidedly burning. The Dark Lord was becoming impatient.

"You do not give up," she said scurrying closer to him placing a small hand lightly on his shoulder. "All throughout our first year – _you_ were looking out for us whilst protecting the Philosophers Stone," she whispered in his ear becoming bolder with her touch as she began to massage his neck: "Second year: _you_ had to brew all that potion to help Basilisk victims – of which I was one, remember?" Hermione's knees dug into the small of his back. Her breath fell in comforting waves down his neck causing him to gulp a little. It was not an unpleasant sensation, he sighed. "Third year you were, admittedly, rightly concerned over a Werewolf being in charge of us and you, _again_ , risked your life to save us three disagreeable brats," Snape felt his head leaning back. Resting against her breasts as she massaged his temples and head now.

"Fourth Year – _you_ were probably tortured for your so-called betrayal of the Dark Lord for actions he witnessed you partaking in during our First Year," her voice was like honey in his ears. The circular movements of her oh so lovely talented fingers relaxed him no end with their light but firm pressure as they circled the muscles on his face. "Fifth Year – _you_ knew what we were up to with Dumbledore's Army but you did not seek to sabotage our endeavours. Indeed I think, in some way, you approved of it," a little grunt acknowledged this was so. Keep talking, Granger, he thought. If I had realised your voice was this soft and unctuously sweet, I would have allowed you to speak more often. "You even acted on Harry's coded message regarding your enemy and tried to warn him personally," her lips brushed against his ear. "Brewing potions to help us all recover from hexes flung our way," tenderly she pecked his temple. What was she... "Last year you had to undergo a terrible chore. I _cannot_ believe you wanted Dumbledore dead, least of all be the one to make certain so, but for reasons as yet unexplained, you _had_ to be the one to assist in his demise." Rustle of fabric indicated she had shifted position. Hitching her breath in her throat Hermione gulped at Severus intense dark eyes gazing intently into her own. Water! A strange ache fell towards her belly as her own now focussed on his rather sensual; slightly parted lips. "S-So, no, S-Severus," she stuttered, now losing certainty in her speech. "You have not given up on us. I believe you bought me here to explain things or perhaps to have a friend – I will stay here until I know you are well."

As she was about to move away from him Severus grabbed her wrist and pulled her close to him – searching eyes flickered all over Hermione's face. Something. He was trying to find something on the young woman's face. Suddenly, at lightening speed, she found herself flung back on the bed with him looming over her. Heart thudded in her chest as she felt his lips plunder hers – giving her no choice but to allow him access to her mouth. No battle for dominance as Hermione allowed her former Professor to kiss her. Passionate warmth pervading her entire body as senses tingled she rarely heard of. This was not the first kiss she had had but she would die happy right now knowing it was her last. The way he stroked around her wet mouth suggested he knew what to do with a woman. The only reason he brusquely broke the kiss was that the Mark burned persistently on his arm.

"Perfect timing as always," he grumbled. "You should go," he panted.

"No," she said stubbornly. "You kidnapped me for a reason and it certainly was not to make out on your bed!"

"Potter needs..." he yelped in agony as he rolled his sleeve up. It was pulsating ferociously on his flesh. The stark contrast of the black poisonous dark charm seared into his winter white skin almost turned her on more. In the Muggle world that would be considered a rather interesting tattoo. "... You, go!" he gasped.

"Go, do not fuel his wrath," she said schooling her features as serious as she could. Offering no promise of staying or going. If she did not send him on his way then the Dark Lord could hurt him more.

After she watched him disappear from his room Hermione languidly fell flat on her back, on Severus' bed, breathless with wonder

Once alone she touched her throbbing lips and swallowed his taste and she felt her hands wander down her body where it tingled the most: "More of that, please, Professor," she giggled a little. The way he flipped her over and glared down at her. Panting hot breath on her face. The way his hands blocked her head. The definite pressing of arousal on her thigh. Why was she not afraid of him? Instead she swooned back on the mattress, rolled on her front and picked up a chunk of coverlet. Drowning her nose in his aroma. Allowing his aura to surround her completely. "Still I guess I better stay here as I doubt he'd like me wandering around his home..." Then she remembered all those lovely books in his sitting room. "Well, I've been there already so I guess one book won't hurt."

After a careful perusal that took about 20 minutes and a studied decision on reading material her small fingers wrapped around a navy leather bound book. Hermione made her way up the stairs wanting to brighten the home up more but did not wish to take liberties, she was not here as Severus' girlfriend, or even lover, this was his house and he clearly endured it the way it was with equanimity.

Once back in the bedchamber Hermione burrowed her way under the sheets. Pillows supporting her back and head she laid the tome reverently on her lap as she stroked and seduced the book to urge her into all it's secrets as she steadily opened to read. Listening to the slight creak of the spine as the scent of paper wafted up her nose. Comforted, and safe, Hermione began reading. Smiling now as she has assured that her parents were safe with absolute thanks to Snape. For that alone he could take his reward of her.

It was quite clear that Severus no longer saw her as aggravatingly annoying know-it-all. Now Severus saw her as Hermione – a woman whom he'd liked enough to at least, Hermione purred as her skin continued tingling with his touch, she blushed; have wood for. In her lust filled delirium she forgot about Ron, Harry, horcruxes and weddings. The axis of her world spun on one man; Professor Severus Snape. Smirking and giggling, Hermione chewed on her left middle digit fingernail, as naughty fantasies interchanged – her mind swirling and twisting of scenarios, positions, where – sometimes, she giggled – and with which tying up method he would use with her? With her active imagination of various things they could do together on this bed Hermione may never have to read a book ever again. Perhaps she ought to take a cold shower... but then why bother when she had nested comfortably in _his_ wonderfully soft mattress and pillows, ensconced in his own aromatic allure.

* * *

Heart heavy with trepidation Severus Snape approached the Dark Lord, who had taken residence in Malfoy Manor. The Wizard glided around the dining room with that damnable snake of his. Nagini glared smugly at every individual in the room almost contemplating which one shall be her dinner. Maliciously glinting at the son of the Manor's namesake. The eventual heir. The reason why Snape was in his current predicament. Surprisingly, he felt less fearful knowing Hermione, (after that kiss he had no choice but to call her Hermione), was waiting for his return. Just the idea of her lying in his bed semi naked and willing would make this meeting bearable. When he got home he was going to finish what they started.

There was no judging the mood of the Dark Lord since his miraculous return three years ago, not that he was predictable beforehand. Silently, Snape gulped as he continued nearer to his Master. "My Lord," he bowed subserviently. Self loathing rose like the bile in his throat. "What is due to the honour of my summons?"

The Dark Lord walked up to the kneeled man, extending a bone white skeletal finger and tilted Snape's chin up so he could peer into the man's mind. Not that he could ever succeed. Snape was far too good at Occluding. A fortress as impenetrable as The Iron Curtain, surrounded by the rocks of Azkaban and Checkpoint Charlie's bureaucracy, so was his mind.

"I forget how talented you are, Severus," the reptilian Dark Lord hissed affectionately as he turned his hand inward and now held, in a loving way; Snape's jaw in his leathery palm. "Such a change in your eyes. Something I had not seen since..." the Dark Lord's lips curved in a lascivious grin. "I do believe you have found yourself a young maiden, Severus."

Laughter rang out around the room along with some cat-calls. Just wait until they find out who, Snape sighed wishing he could be in Hawaii – with Hermione in a white skimpy bikini top and grass skirt, she would look amazing in that environment. It was also a Potioner's paradise.

"My Lord," he sighed. Lifting the hem of the psychopath's robe. Kissing it reverentially. "No young maiden would dare think themselves fortunate to approach me with lust."

"Hmm," Voldemort mused. "I was told by the Lestrange brothers that you currently have the delectable Mudblood friend of Harry Potter in your home?"

 _Delectable_? Since when was Hermione under _his_ scrutiny? The Dark Lord too would never use that word if he had not been considering it on some level... Salazar's tight pants, the girl could rule the world by just smiling alone! Severus invisibly shuddered at the thought of what that would do to **his** Hermione. "Why would I have such an insufferable know-it-all present in my premises?" Severus sighed – on the self loathing scale the valve was now on the yellow before the red. Whilst some of pipes were swollen with water, the hissing communicating a need to burst. He had to slam his Occlumency shields harder than that. "I had enough invasion of privacy when that rat had his whimpering, simpering, whiskers all over my business." The rat that betrayed Lily, the slobbering coward – why he was put in Gryffindor was beyond Severus. "It is also unlikely the tart would deliberately seek me out."

The crowd around sniggered slightly. Pettigrew was no ones favourite: "I do apologise for foisting that sycophant on you, dear Severus," the tone of favourite Uncle rested uneasy in Snape's ears, "deeply so. Though there is a marked difference between someone like Pettigrew scurrying among the floorboards, to a nubile Amazonian between the sheets, is there not?"

Sick, I am going to be sick! However, Severus Snape had taken a potion to restrain the gag reflex. "I am awed by your magnanimous apology, my Lord," Severus groaned out. How did my life come to this? "I can assure you my home is the last place that _filth_ would come to." There was no way he could bring himself to say the actual word. Filth was, thankfully, acceptable to the Dark Lord's ears. "Let alone would I wish to touch anything that thinks a _Weasley_ is the height of male sophistication!"

The last remark sent other members in large guffaws of laughter. Snape searched for Draco. Not even a smirk. What had happened to the young man?

"Maybe you should teach her, Severus, that is what you are best at." The Dark Lord leered.

"If she is to see me – she is more than likely to hex me rather than allow me to touch her – my Lord."

Waving his other hand dismissively the Dark Lord sighed: "It is of no matter, Severus, I appreciate your attempts at lying but I can smell her on you," Using another skeletal, transparent, long finger Voldemort raised the prostrate man by his chin. "I have decided to gift you."

"My Lord," Severus shuddered. Good job no one could see. "I require nothing except your success in the up and coming war."

"Oh my dear boy," the Dark Lord took on an urbane tone sounding like Dumbledore. Snape sighed. They were both as bad as each other. No one could see it but him. He was the only one foolish enough to try and serve two masters. Treating Triumph and Disaster just the same. "You were clever enough to think of abducting the girl. Your task is to make her stay away from the Potter brat."

"I doubt that would..."

"I am not a fool, Severus," the Dark Lord grinned. "The reason Mr Potter is not yet vanquished is, in part, due to her phenomenal intelligence," Snape kept his gaze neutral. It seemed the Dark Lord had a spot of admiration for her. That frightened him more than if the Dark Lord out and out hated her. "For a being with no magical ancestry she has the fire and power required of the boy. You remove her – Potter is without a chance."

"Her intelligence is highly exaggerated, My Lord."

"You can believe that if you wish," the Dark Lord ventured over to some others in the room. Finally stopping at Draco: "Is your godfather correct, Master Malfoy?"

Quavering a little, Draco kept his eyes on Snape. The only face of sanity in this group: "I was infuriatingly second in exams to her," he said as spitefully as he could muster. "My Lord," he remembered when his father dug his nails into his son's shoulders. Not knowing that Draco was beginning to question all what he had believed in his first 17 years of life. To think, Draco sighed glumly, she could have been mine if I had these doubts sooner. "She can master almost any spell straight away and I believe Dumbledore's Army was her brainchild."

"Thank you, Draco," the Dark Lord squeezed the young Malfoy's other shoulder, "hmm, she was the instigator of Dumbledore's Army," this made the Dark Lord glow. "Interesting, do you know how she managed to communicate with her peers?"

Shifting on his feet, Draco sought out his mother's pinched and pale visage – curtly, she nodded: "I think she used a NEWT level protean charm on Galleons and," he sighed lowering his eyes to the floor, "made them sign a magically bound contract making sure no one would turn them in, my Lord,"

"What was the punishment to the one who broke the contract?"

"When someone did, it turned out the curse was a scarred SNEAK across her forehead which is still visible today, my Lord," Draco replied with a smirk. Somehow he himself despised the girl for ratting out her comrades. A Slytherin knew better. "Only Miss Granger knows the counter curse – I gather it may even have been her own invention."

"The girl in question, Draco?" the Dark Lord lapped up this kind of information. He wondered if the victim could either be a recruit or punished, "who was the coward?"

"A Ravenclaw – Marietta Edgecomb, my Lord," Draco said with glee.

"A vicious streak in our Gryffindor," the Dark Lord mused. "Hmm," he tilted his head as if considering something. "Well, Severus, if she does not meet your needs for a pet maybe someone else can have her as their reward and you can have the Ravenclaw."

The hum of approval around the room showed that she was indeed sought after. This was to be the only way to save Miss Granger from a fate worse than Fenrir.

"No, My Lord, I will keep the Gryffindor," Snape replied with a smirk. "I have discerned that she held a flame for me whilst I was her teacher," the sniggers echoed darkly in the recesses of his disgusted conscience. "I thought to utilise her naïve crush for our cause, my Lord."

"Good, my dear Severus, you should be pleased," the Dark Lord looked at him again. "I understand she is not without charms." That's the problem, Severus ground his teeth together. "I applaud your crafty manner." The Dark Lord tapped a long white finger to his bottom lip as if he was mulling something over in his brain: "I normally do not take kindly to Muggleborns but there is something about this one..." Yes, his red eyes darkened to burgundy and the smirk widened. "... No harm is to befall the Muggleborn. I wish to sway her to our side. So," he shortened the smirk, "Lucius, you help and..." he swept his gaze around the room. "Rabastan, yes, you'll do nicely. Seduce her, make her one of us, encourage any curiosity she may have. In due time I shall call her to me."

"My Lord?" Lucius spoke now. "I have often wondered if there was more to her than meets the eye – when I have had the pleasure to meet her as a child, she seemed to be giving off a signature of Familial magic. I questioned then of her parentage."

"Do you require any other information, My Lord?" Draco bravely asked.

"That is all," The Dark Lord now sounded bored. A sign of dismissal. "Severus, next time I summon you I would like you to bring her to meet me," Snape felt his blood run cold. "I shall give you and the chosen brothers time to teach her." Out of the corner of his eye he noticed even Draco flash a slight sign of concern. "I promise no harm will befall her," the Dark Lord crooned. "I to may wish to sate myself with her – besides, it is often said: Keep your friends close, your enemies closer."

It may have been framed as a polite request but Severus knew it was an order. He would have to really think on his feet with this one. Perhaps he could get Hermione to – to where? Muggles and Muggleborns were becoming prime targets and she was especially tainted by her association with Potter. Thankfully, since he murdered Dumbledore, he could do no wrong in the poisonously red eyes of the Dark Lord much to Bellatrix displeasure. Quietly, Severus swirled on his heel and started his way to the Apparition point.

* * *

As Severus had reached the doors on his way out he heard footsteps follow him. Whirling on his heel he noticed Scabior was catching up to him. The younger Wizard thrust Severus into door, leaning in closely.

"Don't think I forgot," he hissed in Snape's ear. "Now, why don't you give me my price in her and there you won't be bothered, will ya!"

"You will be recompensed in gold," Severus said calmly, as he lazily reached inside his robes. Tapping a small piece of material that became a healthily distended bag of gold. "The agreed price – 100 Galleons – spend it wisely."

"You think you got the better of me," Scabior's eyes narrowed as he fisted the velvet bag. "She is mine – she responded so well to me – din't even ask me name, yer can't fake that."

"Probably not," the raven haired Wizard sneered in what could be a shrug of the shoulders as he pushed the raggedy bastard right off his person. Severus swept his robes with a disdainful air trying to clean off the imagined dirt that was there. "When you left she also responded to me just as, if not more, pleasurably than she did to you."

Scabior's eyes narrowed at, what he now considered, his love rival. "Fine, let's play that way, shall we, Snape – we both know you're too bloody mindedly Gryffindorian in certain aspects of your life – you would not _dare_ to touch a student – you are so disgustingly conscientious of values and _propriety_."

Sinisterly smirking, Snape tilted his head to the side and licked his lips: "Ah yes," he whispered silkily. " _Technically_ , she is no longer my student but my reward and I will treat her as such, _Matthias_ , good day to you." With that Snape spun, once again, elegantly on his heel.

Just as he made his way to the gates another set of steps approached him. Rolling his eyes Snape realised he was now being held up by a tall blond Wizard. Cold grey eyes sparkled dangerously matching the knowing smirk on the blonds lips.

"I do hope you share your gift like the Dark Lord suggests, Severus," Lucius snarled. "Recent pictures in the Prophet shows just how de _light_ ful Potter's Mudblood has grown."

"I doubt I will, Lucius," Severus grinned. "I have a feeling she will rather gnaw your balls off with her teeth than have them near her tender and most intimate parts."

Chuckling, Lucius examined his nails: "Fair game, Severus," the blond leaned in and whispered: "How can we know unless she is given the chance?"

" _I_ am unmarried, Lucius, _you_ are not. _You_ are out of favour, _I_ am not. _I_ have gained her trust, _you_ have not. Do _I_ need to go on?" Snape glowered at Lucius. "Also, at no point during our acquaintanceship, did I _ever_ try to kill her! The same, however, cannot be said for you."

"Hmm," Lucius murmured as if musing all what Severus argued. "Yet I know something about you... Severus," the blond's silvered eyes lit up with intrigue. "Whilst you will do anything to protect Draco, I do not believe you are as faithful as you once were," Lucius tilted his head as he tapped a long middle finger against his slightly pouting lips as if he was measuring his next sentence carefully before speaking. "In fact I am not sure if _you ever were_ truly a Death Eater," Lucius darkly hinted.

"Get to the point."

"My point is I had planned her to be my pet," Lucius snarled pushing Snape against the stone wall that flanked one side of the gate, curling his manicured fingers into the folds of Severus robes, hurting the Professor's back as he did so. Now fully in Severus face all the saturnine gentleman could do was curl his lip in disgust. "I earmarked her the moment I laid eyes on her when I met the brat in Flourish and Blotts!" Ignoring the pain Severus continued his efforts to sneer condescendingly at the God of Condescension. Once Lucius stood taller than him, now Severus held the height advantage. So Lucius had to tip toe slightly to lean into Severus personal boundaries. The stench of whiskey assaulted Snape's sensitive nostrils as the blond whispered threateningly in Snape's ear. "So you had best share her with me or I may di _vul_ ge certain information I am sure you wish to be kept secret," the millionaire had a way of rolling his L's the way others did their R's. "It is to protect her, after all, Severus."

What did that mean? Did he have to beat off every male Death Eater to make sure Hermione was safe? Sighing, he curtly nodded in a silent show of understanding, Snape sharply turned on his heel as the gates opened to Lucius' touch. Blankly, Snape stared from the distance as he realised Lucius was still looking pensively at him. Once he had found his way to the Apparition point Severus rubbed his hands over his face before returning home.

* * *

There was not a light or sound from the lower floors so she must either have found a way out or she was in the bedroom. Slowly he crept up the stairs to his bedroom where there was a little candlelight peeking out from the cracks of the door. His heart fluttered with hope within his chest allowing faint ripples of optimism to course through his veins. Cautiously he opened the door. Propped up with a book sitting across her lap awaiting him like she said she would sat Hermione Granger more beautiful than before. Had anyone done that for him before?

Hearing the heavy tread on the creaking floorboards Hermione looked up. Beaming she slammed the book shut and leaped out of bed. Then her expression changed to one of caution. Clumsily, she halted inches in front of him.

"You can brew fame, bottle glory, and stopper...?"

Good! He sighed. He was worried she was showing her too trusting side just then. "Death."

"What page number was it you wanted us to read in D.A.D.A. In third year?"

"394."

Nodding, Hermione chewed her lower lip thinking of the next question to ask. One that might only be known to them. For, unbeknownst to Harry, she had sought out personal advice from him in the past. Those sessions were the reason she had an unhealthy crush on him now.

"What did you do to try and convince Fudge of the Dark Lord's return; thus corroborating Harry's story, after the Tri-Wizard Tournament?"

"I raised my sleeve up and showed the Mark pulsing angrily on my skin."

It was then that Hermione felt nearly comfortable enough to ask him the last clincher question: "What did I say to you before you left?"

"Go, do not fuel his wrath."

It was then she ran and jumped on Severus who caught her in his arms. Now she was being safely held she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his hair that smelled divinely masculine. Lavender, sandalwood, salt and incense. Her legs bent in the air as she dared not circle them around his waist unless he guided them there.

"That was a good line of questions, Hermione, ending on something personal."

Mumbling her gratitude she then jumped down: "Not hurt?" she turned his hands over and gently patted his body to check for lumps and bumps. "HE did not hurt you?"

"If self loathing were a whip I'd be a crumbling mass of pain before you," he said sarcastically. "There is something I have to tell you."

Taking her hands in his he guided her to the edge of the bed – in a rom-com this would have been the point he would propose – this was no rom-com. The idea of Snape proposing to her was ridiculous but she could not help but feel warm inside that the man was concerned for her.

"The Dark Lord likes to offer gifts to those who have done well in his service."

"Like Roman Emperors did their loyal high ranking legionaries?"

"Something like, yes," Snape sighed. How could he tell her that she was essentially his now to do with her as he will: "He feels that I have done extra specially well for 'kidnapping' you."

"But you did not kidnap me for nefarious reasons."

Oh her tone was so warm, trusting, innocent. "You are safe from the Death Eaters if I treat you as a..."

"Slave," she whispered lowering her eyes to their entwined hands. "As a slave I have to..." Images of being forced in a gold bikini flashed through Hermione's mind. Though Professor Snape was no Jabba. "... You have to own me body and soul, correct?"

"I am sorry, Hermione," Snape sighed. "I did not intend this," he said rushing his long fingers through her now knotted curls both sides of her face, black clad arms framing her pensive countenance. "I just wanted to explain certain things to you," slowly she peered up through her lashes. "Show you what you had to do help Harry."

Oops! He had called the kid by his first name. That was not going to go unnoticed: "Y-you care for him, really, d-don't you?" she stammered. Wide open, caring, warm eyes that melted his iced over heart. "I knew you did," she whispered.

"Yes," he breathed out. Freed from the bonds of hate he was forced into. "Prize dunderhead though he is," he smiled up from his lashes and Hermione's own heart melted. "I have been to hell and back for that boy and, even though he is not grateful, I still would do so again."

"Everyone is insistent that he is like James," Hermione sighed, "I do not agree," she gazed into Snape's eyes. Wow, he really does... if it was possible, her heart became the consistency of a fountain of oozing chocolate within, "but that is a conversation for another time. What else did HE have to say?"

"He wishes to meet you," Snape gripped harder onto her hand. Somehow, Hermione knew she was going to sleep with this man tonight. Had known since she heard his voice earlier in the evening. The kiss before proved it and now she wanted nothing more than to screw the man's worries away. Better that than at the end of a bottle. "He says you intrigue him and he also complimented you in a way."

"I should be flattered," she sneered, "what else?"

"Scabior was there," he said. "He threatened to take you from me, permanently."

"I'm here, with you," she said tenderly. Where did she get this endless amount of empathy? "Beside you," she rested her cheek on top of his head allowing him to see her breasts up close. Oh to flick his tongue around those tempting areolas and slightly peaked nipples. "For you," she sighed.

If you're not careful I am going to have you! He wanted to break contact but she would not let him: "There is someone else who wishes to get his hands on you." He felt her stiffen against his frame but she did not pull away: "It seems Lucius Malfoy wants to 'play' with you."

Shudder: "No thank you," she murmured, "I've got _my_ fake Death Eater, right here!"

It was then she felt herself flipped onto the bed, flat on her back, hair splayed wildly around. Eyes shining with expectation. Lips parted – the lower pouting deliciously. Once she was there his eyes turned molten jet. Volcanic explosions of lust sparked from the darkened centre of his fathomless pupils that were surely dilating at the sight of a wanton Hermione Granger on his bed.

Widening her legs she began to tease him with her fingers rubbing lazily along her outer folds. Indicating how she wanted him. Coaxing the desire he saw in her dark chocolate gaze. Closing his eyes he muttered something under his breath. Not quite able to discern the words Hermione wondered if he was praying. Her head tilted to the side, reminding Snape of a squirrel examining a nut. Slipping off her body Severus hunkered down and began to unlace his boots.

"If you ever have doubt that you are not desirable," he growled as he flicked his shoes off. Making quick work of his socks which he flung carelessly across the room. Languorously, Snape then unzipped his trousers, watching Hermione's eyes widen with appreciation of the promise hidden inside. Gasping at the sight of his tented black boxers. "All you have to do is remember that today you have just made two Death Eaters hard with desire – four if you count the Lestrange's," Rushing down his shorts he divested the rest with a Wandless wordless spell. Smirking at Hermione's reaction as she blinked at the sight of Snape's naked body for her – for _her_ he was erect! "Also remember that even the fussy Lucius Malfoy wishes to play with you."

"Wow," she breathed looking into his eyes shining with one purpose, and one purpose only. To pound her onto the mattress. Rock the headboard. Have her in as many possible ways he can. Quickly she reached back and unhooked her bra. Pushing the straps down her arms and pulling out the lacy undergarment that so sexily matched her knickers that Snape began to touch his rod. Then she crossed her arms, hooked her fingers over the hem of her strappy top. Fluidly she pushed it up off her body where her breasts swung free as did her hair.

Fascinated, Hermione watched as her former teacher was now the one with the glistening gaze on her fleshy body. "By the way," she whispered huskily, "I have had some sexual experience but," she smirked at him as her own eyes glazed over with lust. "Some things did not quite – happen." In all but the particulars, Hermione was still frustratingly a virgin. She thought at least one of her hallway skirmishes would have fulfilled the promise of his reputation but the damned Mrs Norris mewed at the vital point. "So, you're my first."

"I do not wish to know, Hermione," he said. Kneeling down on the edge of the bed he crawled up her body. Carefully not touching her sending her murmuring with want. Only then did he stroke down her waist and hips causing her to writhe beneath him: "I can make you do so much more than your previous paramours – I will be the one you set the marker by from now on," he growled as he rested where he was before the call. Now with more than a vague promise. "Now," he whispered, "I think we were about..."

Oh my F... udge, she hissed as she felt his heavy but talented hands between her legs. "ooooo!" she moaned already writhing.

"There," he grinned wickedly. "Love making and Potions are the same," he whispered as he lazily stroked down her inner thigh pressing harder when he made her way back to her now slick seam. "I adore making a Witch simmer, bubble, and glow beneath me."

"Mmmm!" she whimpered. "I like... oh..." elegant digits explored her petals, tweaking the flesh of the folds. "Let me finish!" if this was what a few strokes and pinches did to her how was she going to cope with more?

Her previous lovers included Viktor – when he visited last Summer – that consisted of a lot of heavy petting, groping and sexual fondling. Not actual penetration because both suddenly became too shy. A hapless Muggle a week or so after when Viktor had left. That consisted of even more awkward fumbling – but his grandma walked in. One time, in the previous school year both Cormac McClaggan and Blaise cornered her. Cormac's sloppy kissing was enough to make her shudder and swear to celibacy. As for Blaise, well, three butterbeers – an argument with Ron – abandoned by Harry were perfect ingredients for an against the wall tryst with the handsome black Italian. Not only did he know how to kiss, tease and stroke – he also seemed to want to break her into Slytherin Common Room and oh how she would have been welcome in his bed.

"No more talk of previous fumbles with boys, Hermione," panted Severus as he quickened the pace of his strokes. "You are with a man now!"

"Please," she whimpered. Now she was deliciously willing and twisting beneath Professor Snape. "Let me finish."

"I have not started yet," he said mischievously as he continued to massage her clit with his fingers causing her to mewl most delightfully. Severus watched as she began to pant at a quickening pace, her eyes rolled in the back of her head as she lifted her hips to meet his hand as his fingers continued to map and stroke her core. Fascinated by the way she wriggled and writhed as he wound her tighter and nearer. He began to grunt and encourage her to scream as loud as she wanted too.

Then after he felt he had coiled her enough he leaned over her body and whispered huskily in her ear: "Come for me, Hermione, come for me." With that he pinched the clit between thumb and forefinger.

Did he _have_ to do that? Her limbs shuddered beneath and around her as those dark eyes twinkled while they played with her own. "Se-VAH-Rus!" she screamed as he felt her juices drip into his palm. Both pairs of eyes shone with desire for the other. Hermione's hand shakily tucked Severus' hair behind his ear as she stroked his cheek softly: "Thank you!" she gasped.

"We are not finished yet," he growled against her naval as he began sucking the slightly rounded flesh. "It appears you really do love doing as your Professor's command."

The coverlet was no longer strong enough to contain her passionate grip as Severus flicked his tongue in and out of the puckered flesh of the belly button whilst his hand was attending to her increasingly throbbing seam. Eagerly, Hermione thrust her hands on his hair. When he sped up the pace of his fingers caress Hermione scratched his scalp with her nails causing Snape to hiss.

"I could hardly refuse," she managed to pant after he slowed down his attention.

"No," he grinned like the Cheshire cat that got the clotted cream. "I intend to keep you that way, my dear."

Gazing down at his smiling face she sighed, thighs quivered, and nipples ached: "Please," she arched up. "I need you!"

"Tell me."

"Suck my tits, please? They're aching with want of your warm mouth."

Grinning from ear-to-ear he raised a hand to one of her beautiful breasts and flicked it only making her writhe more: "As you wish," he purred. "My dear Princess Buttercup, I do you as you command for the rest of my life."

"You, Severus, are _doing_ me wonderfully," Hermione sighed as his mouth sucked and licked her nipples.

Twisting and writhing once again, Hermione shut down all systems that ran on logic inside her brain and caved in to animalistic desires as Severus paid attention to her breasts feasting on one, then the other, not stopping even to breath.

A cloud of lust descended upon them as if they were the only two in the world...


	4. Diverting Strategy

**AN:** _This is inspired by the world JK Rowling lovingly crafted, I am only writing for fun and a hobby, not a solitary sickle is earned by this work._

* * *

This chapter is filler rather than killer. As the title suggests it is more to do with planning and setting up the actual story. Certain things don't happen because the story calls for it. This is going to be Good!Hermione but she is not Angelic!Hermione. Ethics, rather than morals.

* * *

 **KidSnatched**

 **Diverting Strategy**

"No wait!" Hermione pushed Snape off her body and sat up. Groaning Severus glowered at her indecision. "You still owe me an explanation."

Folding her arms, accompanied by a determined scowl, Hermione glared at her now sexually frustrated ex-Professor. Showing little sympathy whilst observing his hunched form, dangling his legs over on the edge of the bed, using a pillow to hide his erection.

"You do realise that this is painful, don't you?" he pointed at the obvious effect she was creating. "I mean it," Snape gritted his teeth. "This is agony!"

Shrugging her shoulders Hermione could not show care either way: "A physical reminder then of the way you treated me with scorn, sarcasm, and childish pettiness unbefitting a Professor."

Grinding his teeth together harder, Hermione arched an eyebrow, amused as Severus glower deepened: "It was just an act, Hermione," he managed to to say without yelling. "I could not show kindness or even a _sense_ of liking towards you. You do realise who was supposed to be my star pupil do you not?" Hermione started tapping her fingers on her forearm, eyebrow still arched, with the considered venom that he pulled into his own. The final realisation that, indeed, Miss Granger the pupil became Hermione the woman. "Fine, I suppose I could have answered you at least once or twice a term when no one else cared to do their homework," he thought that may appease her but she now stood up and walked to a dark wood chair that was unsteady on its legs and crossed one long beautiful limb over the other as she sat back with that arched brow still in place. "You are sure you wish to know the truth?"

"Is that not what you brought me here for? I am sure bringing me to your bed was not," she then draped an arm over the back of the chair and tilted her head as the other arm rested across her lap. Angling her body in such manner that Severus whimpered at the tempting sight before him: "Is my state of undress bothering or muting you, Professor?" her tone dripped with saucy sarcasm as her smirk matched the incredulity in her eyes: "Hmm, I wonder if you did plan on seducing me after all?"

"I need release, Hermione, and I will tell you the truth if it means that is what you will give me you temptress!"

Now her smirk grew broader and the eyebrow lowered but not much: "I am listening," she said, "I promise not to _erect_ my hand," she took delight in her Professor's groan of anguished torture, "or interrupt."

Severus regarded the woman in his bedroom carefully. If it were not matter of blood she most certainly would have been a Slytherin: "We need to go back a long way before you came to the school," he sighed. "When I found out that the Dark Lord planned on targeting the Potter's to destroy the one who could destroy him – I went to Dumbledore – he proceeded to make me take an Unbreakable Vow!" he appreciated Hermione's gasp and took in her look of concern. "As you see, I am not dead – so what does that tell you?"

"That you have done correctly what Dumbledore desired you to do according to the terms of the vow," she whispered.

"Precisely," the man clapped and rubbed his hands together with another sigh: "Due to Lucius Malfoy's failure in the Department of Mysteries and subsequent six-month or so long term in Azkaban – Draco was forced, by his Aunt, to take the Mark."

"That's rape!" Hermione stood up. Indignation boiled through her blood and she sizzled with adult magic. Naked and furious. Boadicea held nothing on Hermione Granger when injustice was served. Snape's admiration grew for her the moment he saw a person who should despise the youngest Malfoy the most, angry on his behalf. "Sorry, I promised not to interrupt."

"You are correct, Hermione," he sighed. "Draco was raped of his free choice – to add insult to injury he was tasked with the somewhat impossible feat to destroy Dumbledore," the Wizard looked haggard. To Hermione's selfless heart he showed how much he truly cared. "Anxious, his mother came to me for help," he glanced up and found Hermione sitting there with tears in her eyes. "Another Unbreakable Vow caused a kink in what would have been a carefully laid strategy that Dumbledore placed as soon as the prophecy was revealed," lowering his gaze he heavily sighed as he got up and paced around the room. Carefree of his nakedness. "Of course I took it to prevent Draco from having to taint his soul with murder."

"I would not wish that for him," Hermione shuddered. Snape wanted to close the distance between them. "So, I take it Mrs Malfoy ordered you take on the task if Draco proved unwilling or..."

"His plan was to bring Death Eaters into the castle, cause a minor battle and then get Dumbledore on his own," he watched her purse her lips and furrow her brow in contemplation. "So Dumbledore, having your feelings on the subject, suggested I carry through the Vow Narcissa placed upon me," he continued after a slight pause. "That way then I was not breaking both Vows – Harry was not supposed to see anything. Neither was he supposed to save my old notebook."

"You did not wish it to be found you should have hidden it somewhere else – like a heavily warded vault or something," Hermione smiled. Great Salazar's nipples she has dimples. "That would have caused less trouble."

"I find it disconcerting that you can sometimes out Slytherin me," Snape smirked at her. "Or maybe I _did_ want it to be found. At least Potter learnt from me somewhere," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Does that tie it up neatly for you?"

"So, what do you have to do now?"

"I will be placed as Headmaster and from there I don't know," he sank back down on the bed and glanced at her with a smile: "You were supposed to be at the new Weasley wedding and then helping Harry with his hunt for whatever it is needs to be found," he rubbed his hand down his face and sighed from the depths of his soul. "But now the Dark Lord has said you _must_ stay with me," Hermione nodded. Lovely curls bouncing in her agreement. "He wishes to meet with you sometime soon," Hermione shifted in her seat. "Well, I know that it will make you uncomfortable," he stretched his hand out. "He will expect us to be... um... well... fraternizing – quite often."

"All right," she gulped. Now she was out of the Lust Cloud her senses reassembled to normality: "Then you are going to have to teach me how to behave in front of HIM."

"You really are sensible, Hermione," he said, "though you may have to work on your desire to be on top – that kind of attitude will not be acceptable to the militant factor amongst the Death Eaters."

The corners of her mouth twisted in sardonic curve: "Meaning The Lestranges, Dolohov, and Yaxley."

"The Dark Lord is somewhat an unknown factor – he may appreciate you playing for power, however," he smiled. "He may see it as you trying to take his throne."

"The Dark Lord on his throne?" Hermione giggled.

A dark look flickered across his eyes as he watched the still languorously naked Hermione laugh at the image he had inadvertently painted in her mind.

"Highly amusing I am sure," he said in the same tone he used to call her a silly girl in.

Coughing to try and stop her laughter, Hermione wiped some tears from her eyes and tried to compose herself: "I am sorry, Severus," she said, "I do understand the seriousness of this situation, believe me, I do."

"There are some things you need to be taught to be able to face the Dark Lord," Severus said. Somewhat relaxed now his penis reduced to normal size.

"This is for Harry," Hermione said. "I can learn for him."

"What about... me?" he muttered despising the fact that he felt rejected for a Potter, yet again.

Seeing her Professor's vulnerability shine through his awkward head tilt, Hermione walked up to Severus, knelt down in front of him, tenderly cupping his cheek in her hand, she smiled kindly: "I still do not know the full story but I understand you must have had a hard life," she shuffled nearer gazing earnestly into his cautious gaze. What happened to him so that he flinched with the prospect of being scolded either physically or mentally? "This is for you too," she whispered. "I have a feeling you are more valuable than I am to the ultimate success for the Order."

Surprisingly he smiled rather shyly at her: "No one has ever placed my value above theirs before but I shall disabuse you of that notion," she was back in King Charles Spaniel mode. Cutely tilting her head, earnest puppy dog brown eyes wide, shining with sympathy. "I am certain that you are more to Potter than I _ever_ will be."

"You may be surprised," Hermione sighed. "So as I am here and have no clothes – what is to happen?"

"Do you have your measurements stored at Madam Malkin's?" Snape asked.

Nodding, Hermione nibbled her lower lip: "I like lighter colours. I will go for deeper burgundies, darker greens otherwise pastels in blues, purples, pinks," she giggled. "Don't scowl at the last – not all are Umbitch Pinks. I am not going to allow that toad ruin my love of a flowing dreamy silk light pink, mint green and silver gown."

"Silver?"

"Light pink and gold is lovely too but I feel silver is far more elegant."

"Under... um... things?"

"You are about to ravish me, seen me naked already and you blush at the thought of undergarments?"

Shifting a little in his seat he sighed: "Well, you are the first woman I have had to um... make sure that... well..."

"Madam Malkin knows my particulars in all things – just ask them to match all the robes you intend on purchasing for me same with shoes. I am not going to look shabby – if I am to be your pet," he grimaced at that term. "I know it is degrading but if I have to be... well, you would not wish me to shame you in front of the Dark Lord, that would not be to yours _or_ Harry's benefit."

"What a Slytherin you would have made, Miss Granger," he purred as he used a long digit underneath her chin to raise her body up: "Tomorrow, I will make the purchases," as soon as he said this an insistent tapping on the window caused Snape to open it as an owl swooped in with some parchment. It stuck its leg out and the dour man grabbed the missive: "Well, it appears that Lucius Malfoy feels he can gain my favour."

"What?" Hermione stood up and Snape put the letter in her hands.

" _Severus,_

 _You can take advantage of the Malfoy accounts to dress your pretty slave with in addition to other accoutrements. I am taking into account of your inexperience in the area of feminine needs to make this easier for you. Whilst Madam Malkin's is reputable – Twine and Seam are newer and far better in quality and uses exotic materials. Your young Lady should have the best as befits the pet of the top ranking Death Eater in OUR Inner Circle._

 _Narcissa is willing also to teach her lessons in etiquette but I am sure she has already read a book on such mannerisms. One thing I have gleaned is that she is one to make preparation for varied circumstances. Also, she seems well mannered enough though extra tutelage would not hurt. Do not worry, Narcissa will teach at one of my London Homes I am preparing for you. It holds 15 House Elves._

 _I have met the delectable Miss Granger a few times and can honestly say I am jealous of your luck with gaining her trust. A long look at the young woman is enough to convince me; and the Dark Lord agrees, that you should move to one of my spare homes. The London Town House I decreed at my own discretion, that is fit for such purpose, is available for Miss Granger. A charming abode that is as elegant as young Miss Granger, the address is: 81 ½ Vulpes Arch Mews, Chelsea. Enclosed are the directions to the nearest Apparition point and onwards._

 _The home is not as protected against Muggleborns as the Manor so there should be no difficulties for her to enter. Just key her wand if you wish for your pet to keep her powers. Seeing her in action I would not blame you if you did. Such grace and skill must not be denied. Besides, you would not wish for her to be taken with no chance to fight._

 _Of course, this cooperation comes at a price – I think you understand what I wish for in recompense._

 _Lucius_ "

"So," she breathed, "I guess we move then."

"You comprehend the last sentence."

"I can add up, Severus," she sighed. "You will have to share me."

"NO!" Severus roared taking the letter from her hands and then grabbed her biceps shaking her roughly: "No," he said gently gazing into her eyes. "You cannot. Not with him."

"If this is what it takes, I must," she breathed as he sank lower. His hands now on her back spread as he pressed her to his prostrate body. When he was fully on his knees he buried his face in her stomach. The top of his head covered by her breasts as he began crying. Sniffing all over her perfect youthful flesh. Threading her fingers through his hair she hugged him tight to her. Allowing him to cry: "I will, Severus, if this is my sacrifice – I must," she whispered soothingly. Continually massaging his head. "You stay in the Dark Lord's favour I get you to hold and comfort me when the nightmare is over. Please, Severus," she sighed.

"Don't say those two words!" he hissed as he gazed up at her. "Not now, not ever!"

Hermione knew why. Harry said he had heard Dumbledore use them prior to his death. "Sorry, Severus, but you know we must."

"I do not wish to sacrifice you," he hugged her to him again, weeping. "I wish I was a better man, Hermione. A braver man!"

A lump caught in her throat as the tears threatened to fall from her eyes finally relented and silently dripped down on top of his head: "I think you're brave, Severus," she said through her stuttering sobs. "I believe you to be a better man than you give yourself credit for."

Scrunching his hands into fists in her wild mane of hair as he sobbed more into her whilst she hushed and shh'd him so well: "What can I do, Hermione?"

"Firstly," she sighed. "You get word to the Order – tell them I am safe – do not tell them what is expected of me because it could distract Harry from his purpose – I will suggest someone else to take with him on the hunt," nibbling her cheek she sighed. Hating herself for the suggestion but who else? "I think Ginny would love to but she is too young. Someone from my year," rolling her tongue around her mouth she knelt down on the floor and placed her hands firmly on his shoulders forcing him to gaze into her eyes: "Anyone you can suggest that could help Harry and Ron?"

"Unfortunately, the only person I feel I can trust is Lupin but he is recently married so I believe," Hermione nodded. "Hmm, well," he pulled her head close to his and gently placed it under his chin and held her close. "Then there is Miss Weasley, she is Magically strong, though I fear you are hesitating for a reason?"

"She and Harry are romantically involved. Like an idiot he broke it off with her at Dumbledore's funeral so no Death Eater can harm her so I doubt he would be willing to take her," then she giggled. "Although he did not want Ron or I to follow either because of how dangerous it was going to be. Besides," Hermione grimaced. "Ginny has previous experience with dark cursed items."

"Somehow the scoffing tone shows how you felt about that. Would Miss Weasley be willing?"

"For Harry, anything," Hermione sighed. "Ron and Molly would be the problem."

"Ah well, I am sure you can convince both that Miss Weasley is safer with her older brother and her boyfriend than she would be at School with Death Eater's for teachers."

"Teachers?" Hermione gulped.

"Unfortunately," he mirrored her grimace. "The Carrow's – siblings, dangerous, demented, evil."

"Good, well, tomorrow is there to sort that out. Any other discussion?"

"Can we go to bed first?"

"Sure," Hermione allowed herself to be helped up and led to the bed. "Tomorrow is going to be a busy day," Snape pulled back the covers and they both wearily clambered into bed. Shortly, Hermione found herself held tight in his arms. "Goodnight, Severus," she sighed.

Rubbing circles around her back Snape sighed: "Goodnight, Hermione, try and rest, tomorrow is going to be inordinately hectic."

* * *

So it was. For it was met with an almost in and out pouring of a definite parliament of owls. First thing in the morning Lucius said that he was, again, prepared to allow Snape Carte Blanche on the Malfoy accounts to attire her. Snape chuckled over her grumble: "You would have thought I was marked for him the way he is carrying on."

"Now," Snape sighed. "I want to tell you that I am writing to Madam Malkin to forward your details to Twine and Seam. I need to know what materials you like," Hermione sighed this could be awkward. "Silks fine?" Hermione nodded. "Lace?"

"Not an overabundance, I hate to look like my grandma's sofa."

Another deep chuckle: "I had not realised you held such dark sarcasm," Hermione grinned and carefully placed some scrambled egg on her tongue. "If you are to meet the Dark Lord you must not be too Gryffindorian in your palette."

"I will wear green and silver – they are just colours – and I love them together if I have to be honest. Perhaps not deck me out but..."

Nodding, Snape noted what she said: "Matching undergarments – long skirts?"

"Malkin would know what suits my height, colouring and shape, Severus," Hermione sighed. "She will provide the Proprietor of Twine and Seam any significant detail," a small smirk spread across her lips, "as it is Care Of Lucius Malfoy – may as well take advantage. Subtly suggest to Madam Malkin to throw in her own highest brands too."

"I wonder where the Slytherin in you came from, Hermione."

"Experience," she said bitterly.

Arching an eyebrow he sent the missive off finally with Lucius owl. "I feel uncomfortable that Lucius will know your vitalstatistics," drooping her eyes Hermione shifted in her seat, showing that she was aware of what Lucius would do once he read them. "I hate needing to know your measurements."

Deeply sighing, Hermione glanced at Snape: "You keep going on about my inner Slytherin – I feel you have an inner Gryffindor roaring inside that dour personality."

"Humph," he groaned. "So, what do we do about the home?"

"We take it," Hermione shrugged. "I am sure, like you, he is acting under the Dark Lord's orders – as much as I despise the man he does not deserve punishment if we do not take what he has offered on the whim of a megalomaniac."

Snape shook his head: "Where do you store it all?"

"Store all of what?" she gulped down some toast and marmalade.

"Your compassion."

Blushing Hermione sighed: "No one deserves to die young. The Dark Lord is only the son of a Witch so poor she could not afford a pot to pee in and an arrogant Muggle. From the sound of it," Hermione sighed, "he takes more after the Muggle side than the Magic side. Who names a poor girl Merope anyway?"

"The Heir of Slytherin does."

"I am sure that even Salazar would not have desired the school he lovingly built to educate children in become a place of scorn. Where children are murdered – in some ways I understood his stance then – though if he lived to see now I am _sure_ he would have reconsidered."

Nodding, Snape regarded the young woman in front of him and gulped his coffee: "I still cannot comprehend how you would show compassion to someone like Lucius Malfoy."

"He's someone's husband, father, son – he is not without a heart."

"You are better than most."

Shrugging Hermione was about to reply when another owl arrived: "Malkin," Snape sighed. Then a more stuffy looking owl swooped in. "Board of Governors," with a sigh. A third hooked in: "Lucius, for you."

Shaking, Hermione took Lucius missive and blushed from the first sentence. How could a man be so suggestive?

"Shall I read it out?" she sighed as she caught Snape's quizzical expression. "I shall not spare your blushes as he afforded me no such honour." Silently Severus tilted his head in a sharp movement urging her to continue.

" _Dearest Odette_

 _For that is who you are, my sweetest swan. Oh yes, you were a cygnet when we met. All fluffy feathers and beady eyes._

 _Now, oh yes now, I have seen the Daily Prophets article on your being missing and the accompanying picture. I can only guess how delectable you have now grown in the flesh. The order that Malkin and Twine and Seam have billed me with is quite a dent in my expenses but when I see you arrayed as the graceful swan you are I shall think the price worth it._

 _Princess of Gryffindor you must understand that there are worse Death Eaters than I for Severus to share you with – I shall be kindly, courtly and worthy of you I can assure you of that._

 _As for the house it is do with how you wish dear swan – for that is my gift to you and Severus. Though do not be surprised if I am still keyed to the wards. It shall only be me so you are not shocked. Even Narcissa is unaware of how many properties I own through generations of Malfoy inheritances and purchases._

 _My friend will be amenable to such an arrangement. I wish to meet you on your own in this property later today. Severus will trust me, I can guarantee that. Please meet me on your own – no harm shall come to you..._

 _Unless you want it to?_

 _Lucius._ "

"You can almost hear the wink in the last sentence."

"I do not trust him within a county's width from you if he was a muggle. Less so in the same room as him as a Wizard."

"I hate to admit this but an attractive one at that," Hermione mumbled. "I will have to hear him out I suppose."

"What will you wear as I know the tone. Malfoy's probably already there waiting for you."

"Lucky I have great and consistent Transfiguration scores isn't it."

"Point taken," he said, "but so did I, my dear, and Lucius is going to want you to look a certain way."

Rolling her eyes she took his offered hand as he led her up to the bedroom where he found some clothes he did not care much for due to the memories attached to them. A drab brown and red check dress – early sixties in style – Hermione surmised and the plainest pair of shoes she ever laid eyes on.

"My mothers," he explained shame tinting the height of his cheeks.

"It's okay," she said gently laying a small hand on the hook of his arm. "You need not explain anything to me."

A lump formed in her throat and she turned her back as Snape transformed his mother's plain garb – when she turned around she could not believe the tasteful gown he had presented her with equally wonderful shoes. "There, you can make it fit how you like, I have to sort out the Wards at Hogwarts."

"Does anyone else at the school or the Order know what you had to do?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore did not think it wise to let anyone else know."

"THAT'S CRAP!" Hermione yelled. "He could have trusted someone else. Made Lupin part of the deal or better yet Professor McGonagall. _Someone_ to be on your side when you were unable to cope. _Someone_ to talk and turn too. When you become headmaster all the teachers, aside from the Carrow's, are going to make your life living hell – and all because the great almighty Dumbledore, would not bring a third person into the deal."

Laughing. Severus actually was rocking with merriment. Normally coal black eyes were sparkling like onyx with mirth.

"Then the Gryffindor shines through," he was chortling. "That was not the way Dumbledore worked. Never did. Oh yes, he was a Gryffindor, but the old goat was as Slytherin as they come."

"I only wanted to be a Gryffindor because of Dumbledore," Hermione said in a small voice. "Had I known of Flitwick I think I would have favoured Ravenclaw."

"And my life would have been a lot harder," Snape sighed out his last bout of joy. "If I may make so bold, I am glad you were in Gryffindor for you kept the toe rags in check – and saved my classroom many a time from the likes of Longbottom and Thomas!"

"Not that you praised me at the time," she smiled. "Fine," she said at his raised eyebrow. Why does he do that? "I suppose I cannot leave Malfoy waiting."

With that she took the transfigured items and put them on. Using her wand to adjust the size and stood in front of a cracked mirror. The gown was simple yet elegant. Light pink lace bodice dress with a sweetheart neckline caressed her curves and hugged her hips. A line skirts wrapped her legs comfortably down to her ankles. Little sparkling pink kitten heeled shoes peeped out from beneath the gown. When she re-entered the bedroom she saw a light jade cowling robe with a hood to cover her head. Severus Snape should take up Witches fashion. She smirked at the idea of fawning Witches begging to be dressed with a Snape Label. The flutter of the robe over her dress as she moved was heavenly.

Severus was waiting for her and turned her around – with a few twirls of his wand he swept the sides of her hair into a bun and left the rest flowing freely down her back, taming the curls as he did so. Gently, he turned her back around so he could adjust the robe properly and nodded.

"No," he smiled.

"No what?"

"I am not going to ever become a Witches fashion guru."

Chortling Hermione tiptoed up and placed a kiss on the side of his mouth. A mistake as he rushed her against the wall. Mouth wide with a gasp gave Snape all the invitation he needed to dive deep into her mouth. For a moment she froze. Then he sighed. Melting into the kiss Hermione rushed her hands to the back of his head urging him further inside her. The man could not help but moan her name as her tongue began to play. Hands were all over each other's faces as they continued kissing against the wall. Hair mussed. Lips swollen and bruised. Tongues tingling. Panting heavily into each other's mouths as their desire mounted. Hermione's leg rode up his. Desperately, Severus, wanted to lift it up, wrap it around his waist, hitch her skirts and divest them of clothing.

"Want. You." He grunted as he pulled her close to his body. "Now!"

The only response she could offer was a whimpering of consent, a murmur of mutual desire, and a sigh of requited affection.

Just then an owl swooped in stopping the kiss. Smirking a little, Hermione noted Severus did not look happy about being interrupted by a fowl. Sticking the leg out Hermione groaned as she realised this one was for her.

" _Wotcha,_

 _Hermione, we're worried. Where are you? Moll's is going ape and then some – tugging her hair out with her own hands – Ron and Harry are bombarding me with twenty questions every five minutes. Ginny's sobbing. My other half is threatening to tear the country apart to look for you and I've had enough of it all._

 _Please, wherever you are – just let us know you're safe pie-pop, we_ _ **need**_ _you to be safe. Harry doesn't know yet but we arranged to meet and do that which you already know._

 _D'ya know how hard it is to keep an anxious werewolf happy? Remus has said you're like a daughter to him and he worries more for you than for Harry. He said you remind him of Lily and that Lily would rip him twelve ways – put him back together – only to find twenty four other ways to do so again, if she knew you were in danger. One or three words to assure us – that's all we ask. Use your Patronus, they're harder to track._

 _Oh and darlin' if we ever have a girl can we call her_ _Miolily_ _between you and Lily? Just a scrambled thought._

 _Dora Lupin_."

The owl hovered. Awaiting a reply. Hermione went to the lounge to the desk she would so love to play with Snape on sooner, rather than later, and sat down to compose her own letter.

" _Dear Dora,_

 _I am sorry but there is a change of plan. Someone decided to protect my parents – the same source that informed you of the haphazard plot to destroy my parents – is the same source that is now currently protecting me. Rest easy my friend, for I am secure then, as I am safe now. The source is trustworthy I can attest to that. I wish to keep my source quiet for now as it could prove invaluable and imperative that I do so._

 _I think you are going to have to substitute me permanently. Perhaps you can go on the hunt with Harry, your Auror skills would help a great deal. You have personal reasons to want that lot dead._

 _Miolily_ _? Is that a_ _ **joke**_ _? Poor girl would be wondering if she is supposed to kill weeds or something. Anyway: What about_ _Lilionda_ _– sort of like Lion – with a Gryffindor twist. The Da from your own mother, Andromeda._

 _I will still help in any way I can but you must trust the source_ _unconditionally_ _. Once you get this letter burn it or copy relevant information – that will test how I can trust you. I will charm this letter to give me a wand signal to prove it has been done._

 _I request that_ _ **under no circumstances**_ _is anybody allowed to search for me. To do so would be a waste of valuable time. I will be around still, but more behind the scenes. The source is my protector and_ _he_ _will make certain no harm shall happen to me._

 _Hermione_."

Before she could wrap it around the leg of the bird Snape read it over and nodded with approval. With that she gave it back to the owl and it flew off. "If Remus reads that he is going to know who kidnapped you and where you are."

"Yes but to bear down a full scale attack on your home is not going to work," Hermione shrugged her shoulders with the confidence and innocence of youth. "Even if they did we won't be here. Come on," she grabbed his hand. "quickly!" With an elegant flick of her wand, she summoned Lucius letter. After a few seconds muttering she managed to find the charm to unlock the coordinates. "Got them!" she announced proudly.

"Ready?"

"As I will ever be."

Holding their wands close by they walked out of his house towards a deserted backstreet. Holding hands they apparated to Vulpes Arch Mews.

* * *

Medieval in aspect, Hermione surmised from the tone of buildings surrounding her. Shaking slightly from the ghostly feel of the fog of old London town. Then again what did Hermione expect it to look like? Slowly she took in the numbers, 76, 77, 78, 79, ah 80. Once her eyes landed on the number 80, the houses slowly spread apart to reveal 81½ Vulpes Arch Mews. Decidedly grander than the rest. Older. Possibly early Georgian.

Hermione felt like she had walked through a time barrier. Goosebumps prickled her skin due to unseasonable cold. Squaring her shoulders, she bravely pushed through the shimmering wards. Gasping with joy as they seductively caressed her own inner core. Now she could understand why Lucius did not wish Narcissa to know. This place was clearly meant for Lucius to pursue his own entertainments. Black iron gates squeaked open. Gas lamps sprang to life, lighting the way down the twisted path, with an eerie green glow. Through a wisteria arch way, bigger gas lamps sparked blue flame, flanked either side of the forest green painted oak doors.

"Around the spare Oom where bright eternal summer reigns in the wonderful city of War Drobe," Hermione quoted to herself. Playfully, she turned to Severus. "Are you a son of Adam or a Daughter of Eve?"

"Narnia," Snape said squeezing her hand. "I loved them too."

A one sided smirk matched by the impudent twinkle in her eyes showed that she was about to be cheeky: "Bet you had a crush on the White Witch?"

"No," he smiled softly. "Lucy, actually."

"Lucy's wickedly cool," Hermione breathed. Impressed by his answer. She had always loved that character. "I loved Edmund – for all he did and was going to do – they forgave him and never spoke of it again. He became the best character in the novels."

Turning away once he knew she was safe from Lucius wards Severus went to deal with his own errands at Hogwarts. Mulling over what she said about trying to get Professor McGonagall in on what really happened. It was not a bad idea. By Slytherin's tongue, he needed an ally when there alone, without Hermione's beautiful wide trusting eyes sharing warmth and compassion he had never before come across.

Hermione was led in by an overly enthusiastic elf and shown into a delightful little sitting room with tea and victuals laid out in elegant opulence on silver platters. Hmm, alone? Not that she minded. Perhaps Lucius got tired of waiting.

"Absolutely not," his silken voice whispered as he closed and locked the door behind him. "Oh, do not worry, my sweet," the lips curved mischievously, whilst ice cold eyes glittered somewhat maliciously. Hermione knew to stay as far away from him as he would allow. "I would never tire waiting for my own Odette to come to me when we have some important matters to discuss," here he turned to the door and snapped his fingers: "Cokey," a green elf appeared much the same as the others but a little more dignified – the bow was stiffer, not quite so subservient, and the eyes were not utterly adoring either: "Do the honours and pour for our guest," he grinned at her now. "Miss Granger," Welcome to my parlour, said the spider to the fly, Hermione sighed. "Now," his voice and essence seemed to be circling around her, making her feel somewhat uneasy. "What shall we discuss..." he mock pondered.

What does one discuss when one is trapped with a man who is leering at one? Hermione wondered. It would not take genius to see that the older Mr Malfoy clearly did want her and she was suddenly aware of how _alone_ she was. Strange that she did not have this worry when she was with Severus only last night.

"I cannot think of anything," a slight tremor in Hermione's voice betrayed her fear.

Lazily he loped further into the light of the room and the smile on his face lit up demented eyes: "Oh we must talk about how I am to have a schedule with you, dear Swan – Snape can't have you _all_ to himself; that would be selfish." As he stepped closer towards Hermione she had to fight her instincts to flee from him as fast as she could. The elf, Cokey, poured tea in the warmed china cups, ignoring the Master and his Mistress friend. "When I had gifts I shared them with him and he took willingly," Lucius reached out a hand and tilted her chin up with long, tender fingers. "I expect our own playtime, that _is_ fair, is it not?"

"Tea is ready, Master," Cokey said and popped out.

"The robes should appear here shortly," Lucius tilted his head, "if I pay I must be allowed first look into the goods displayed should I not?"

"Gowns and dresses only."

"Oh no, Pet," Lucius loomed over her now leering. Watching with merriment over how wide her eyes could go when she was fearful. "I intend to see you in all your golden glory, dear Swan."

Great now she was a real live Barbie Doll for Lucius Malfoy! Sexy Librarian Witch edition, complete with silly glasses and a spindly brown plastic wand that would not stay in the doll's hand; available at all times, pieces sold separately.

"You intend to watch me undress and dress several times?" Hermione gasped.

"As many times as it takes before..." he smirked.

Before; yes, she knew what that meant. Before he can hold his erection in no longer.

"I have been in prison for an entire year and my wife has been treating me with the cold shoulder in all aspects. I have needs, Miss Granger, and you're visage pleases me," he lowered his face so he could murmur darkly in her ear. "I make myself come when I think of your sweet little petals unfurling themselves for my large stem," to emphasise the point he took her hand and lowered it to his semi erect penis. "That it jumps to attention just speaking of such is indicative of the wanton effect you have on me," he sniffed her hair. "I cannot wait to find how you finish me off!"

Might as well tally them up, Granger, Hermione sighed. So, the Lestrange brothers: Once Attempted, probably awaiting another try. Scabior: Once Attempted, definitely desiring more. Malfoy Elder: I am pretty sure Malfoy Elder works towards success. Her mind wanted to scream at her for allowing herself to get in this mess in the first place. Her heart – the dark side of it at least – was humming with approval. Squaring her shoulders, Hermione knew that she would likely be on her own. With no one to turn too. For an indeterminate period of time. Long enough for us to be _intimate_ several times over, she grimly surmised.

"I want to stay loyal to Severus," was all she could murmur as he continued using her hand to stroke his ever growing Wood.

Chuckling darkly in her ear, Lucius raised the hand to his lips and suckled the middle knuckle gazing into her eyes as he did so. "What if I offer another incentive, dearest swan?" he pulled her towards him so now his hot breath fell on her neck.

"What incentive could possibly induce me to be a shared pet between you and Severus?" she whispered.

"What if I join the Order?" he asked. Whatever Hermione was expecting – that wasn't it. Staggered by his response, Hermione felt as if the Basilisk did a bad job of petrifying her. She found herself wrapped tightly in his strong, capable, warm arms. "Would that make you more... compliant?" he purred in her ear as he began to dot little kisses on the column of her neck. "Would you be my Mistress?"

"Mistress?" she asked dazedly.

"Would you be my Mistress if I joined the Order?" he stated clearly.

Blinking, Hermione's heart thudded in her ears.

This had to be a dream.

Right?

No way on earth could he be suggesting what she thought he was?

"To make it clearer," he whispered on her shoulder, "will you, Hermione Granger, be my Mistress if I, Lucius Malfoy, join the Order of the Phoenix?"

It was!

Against all probability the impossible was, under extreme negotiation, going to be possible.

Lucius Malfoy... A soldier for the Light?

Those cunning Slytherin's, the hat had once said, use any means to achieve their ends.

Unfortunately, Hermione found herself tipsy with lust so she could not process the concept properly. Soothing hands massaged up and down her body before a hand covered a breast.

"Wh-what's the catch?" she stuttered out breathlessly.

Instead of answering, she found he had bent his head and sucked her silk covered breast causing her to whimper, digging her fingers into his luscious locks: "Mine!" he growled animalistically.

What was wrong with her? Hermione asked herself. She wanted to stop. To make him desist in his tender actions, especially as she felt the skirts slowly gathered up her legs. Leather gloves touched hot flesh. The thumbs circling around the edge of her panties.

"Please, being your Mistress aside, what else is there for you in this deal?" she asked as she gazed down at the sight of Lucius Malfoy, fawning at her, his gaze concentrating on her transfigured underwear. Pondering something as he fingered the material, brushing against her clit as he did so. "Why would you defect?"

Pressing a kiss to a slightly exposed labial fold, Lucius glanced up at her. Eyes wide with amazement as her hot orbs burned with burgeoning passion that he was willing to unleash in but a moment: "For you," he whispered. "Anything for you!"

Hermione would have taken that to heart if she did not remember all that happened before with this man.

"No, you had 14 years of non Dark Lord peace the same as the rest of the Wizarding World, now he's back you want to negotiate a bloody switch?"

"I would be changing allegiances from one Lord of the nigellan Dark to A Golden Queen of the albun Light. I prefer the flattering view of you, dearest Odette," his hand reached up to catch the ends of her curls. "You are made of warmth, compassion, and love. I would swap for the heart of a good woman."

For some reason that answer was not good enough and Hermione hated to doubt him but there was something slightly rehearsed about this entire thing. He had to keep talking, she realised that here was a golden opportunity, since Severus was now out of the running as a spy. She would push and drag his inner heart, make him confront himself. Though how she was going...

As Lucius was worshipping her legs with hot kisses and little licks, Hermione smirked cruelly. Oh, yes! Of course! It was so simple. All she had to do was promise gratification if he gave her the required reasons. Hermione could, and would not, be fobbed off with lame excuses just for the promise of sexual release. The fact that half her experiences before were with Slytherins gave her an advantage.

The cruelty of her smile would have rivalled Bellatrix herself if someone caught it, and she did, in the reflection of a mirror. Oddly empowered by the sight of Lucius Malfoy at her feet – ready to do her bidding – stroking his hair. Her mirror self, a silent but magical one, winked at her as the reflection began to slowly untie the ribbons at her sides. Real Hermione nodded.

"I will do whatever it takes to bring peace to our world," he murmured against her thighs as he nipped the flesh there with precision eliciting a little mewl of approval. "Whatever," he nipped, "it," licked where he bit her softest flesh, "takes," sucking the bite, "for," nipping again, this time harder causing her to gasp, "peace," sucking harder, "to," digging his nails in her quivering thighs, "be," edging his hands further up to her pert bottom, "restored!"

With that he slowly stood up to look at the effect he had on her. All Hermione could do was gaze as calmly as she could in Lucius dilated eyes. Gulping slightly, she nodded.

"Just name your price, my dearest Odette!"

Briefly, she wondered if this was what Power felt? This satisfaction that here, in her hands, lay the decision that could sway the lives of millions. If she were true to herself – in this moment – Hermione understood The Dark Lord more than anything.

What could she make Lucius Malfoy do? A dark glint sparkled in the centre of her pupils. It was seen by Mirror Hermione, Lucius witnessed it too.

Ah, the wards have accepted her, he grinned. Good. Darkness is already seducing her for the next step. Hermione now held a hint of power and she decided she loved it.

Slowly her old self came back and she shook her head, Lucius sighed, good – he could not risk her becoming too dark. Rabastan, blast the man, had that privilege. It was the Malfoys to infiltrate it in the system.

"Anything?" Hermione breathed, "hmm," she tapped the centre of her chin with her middle finger... "My price is – that you get punished for calling me or any other of my special kind, _Mudblood_ – you will help them out of any day, and -" she smiled. Lucius would turn her into a Goddess, he knew he could, "and instead of jailing Muggleborns why can they not be taught the Ancient Rites of Wizardry – the Founders Magic!"

"But my Queen," Lucius said, a first test of how she would deal with insubordination, "that is no long..."

"Quiet!" she snapped, stroking her wand purring, "The Founders Magic," she purred.

"I am trying..."

"Did I say you could speak?" Hermione said. His quiet shake of the head confirmed he had understood her correctly. "Good," she stroked the side of his face with a lovers caress. "Sweet Lucius, if we are to be lovers you must learn not to interrupt. Muggleborns, Founders Magic, oh and the complete exoneration of Sirius Black and the Incarceration of Umbridge."

Nodding Lucius watched as the slight amount of darkness that tenderly caressed her as she walked in was beginning to sweep into her. Not so much an invasive intrusion. She would still hold her inner kindness for as long as it took before Rabastan placed his brand into her.

"Anything, my Queen."

With a little smile on her lips she lifted Lucius off the floor by her fingers and kissed him deeply. The kiss broke the darkness within her like it was meant to.

"Anything for what?" she shook her head.

"To join the Order, of course," Lucius smirked, "it is what we were discussing, is it not?"

Hermione glanced down on the floor wondering why she felt a little heavier inside?

Curiouser and curiouser! For Hermione was feeling a little confused. Why would Lucius Malfoy wish to join the Order?

* * *

 **AN** : _I am going with the theory that all families have differing brands of magic that can be stamped onto a person either by entering warded properties with invitation or there are different types of wards for different purposes. Lucius would be the sort to have a house he would conduct his extra marital affairs within. As I am sure that Narcissa also does. Hermione is going to go through hell and back from now on. Not all of it will be under Severus control._


End file.
